The Cheerman in the Woods
by SimOph52
Summary: A body is found linking the mob to George Washington University. Brennan gets jealous, Booth gets angry, Angela is still rolling her eyes.
1. Chapter 1

"Male. Late teens, early twenties. He's been here for probably about… four weeks." She said looking up at her partner who was cast in a dark silhouette from the lights of his SUV.

"What is he wearing?" Booth said stepping into the light to reveal a confused look on his face.

"It appears to be… a cheerleading uniform." She said examining the material and the synthetic letters etched across the front.

"A cheerleader?" he said astonished, "That's just… great." He said moving his attention back to his notepad.

"While I admit that a man of his build was more suited for athletics like football and rugby, I don't understand what is so strikingly odd about a man who doesn't mind stepping over the boarder of strict gender roles that our society has set forth upon the male species." She said standing up and removing her latex gloves.

"Bones, he was a cheerleader. Cheerleading is for girls." Immediately after saying that, he knew that he was in trouble. He saw her eyes narrow and the furrowing over her brow, and he instinctively took careful step back to avoid any physical attack that might be, and most likely would come his way.

"I believe I've already stated my opinion to that comment." She said coldly, clenching her teeth and balling her fists.

"I'm just saying; it's not exactly normal."

"And what defines normal, Booth? The parental infliction sociological norms during childhood that insinuates that boys play with trucks and guns and girls play with dolls? Or should we not find the path to happiness on our own accord?" she said moving toward him and crossing her arms.

"I'm not getting into this now, Bones. I'm not in the mood for yet another fight with you."

"Fine then." She said nodding in approval, "I accept your surrender."

"Surrender? I didn't surrender, I… postponed." He raised his hands in front of him.

She rolled her eyes and moved past him to the FBI forensics team that who were making their way to the crime scene, "I want everything, and DON'T contaminate my evidence." She condescendingly sneered at them, disposing of her gloves and sliding back into the SUV and closing the door tightly behind her.

Booth stared at her waiting, livid in the passenger seat. He moved into the car and closed the door, turning to her, "What is wrong with you today?" he asked.

"Nothing is wrong with me, and I don't like the way you posed the question as though I were defective in some way."

"See, that… THAT is how I know you're upset about something."

"I don't know what you're talking about." She said looking out the window.

"You're touchy, Bones. Everything I say to you, you automatically take offense to. Why don't you just tell me what's bothering you?"

"Nothing is bothering me, Booth. If there was something bothering me, you would be the first to know because I would tell you, okay?"

He leaned back in his seat and let out an aggravated groan.

* * *

Brennan stood at the examination table hunched over the remains of the male cheerleader that they found in the woods. Booth was walking into the Jeffersonian when he saw her slim figure leaning over the table as usual. She always looked as though she were in a trance when she was studying the bones of a victim and it made her look peaceful which was something he did not see very often outside of the lab.

He walked toward the platform and swiped his identification card before quickly hoping up the steps toward her, "Anything yet, Bones?"

"Not really. His muscles look somewhat deteriorated, but that is not surprising due to the sport that he was involved in."

"Sport?" Booth said while letting out a quiet smug laugh. Brennan eyed him up and he immediately dropped his attitude.

"Because he was left in the woods for so long, decomposition plus the infestation of maggots and other feeding animals, there is nothing I can really do until the bones are cleaned which means I am waiting on Hodgins to collect his samples."

"Well, where is he?" Booth asked sounding annoyed.

Brennan shrugged her shoulders and stuffed her gloves in the pocket of her lab coat. She was walking towards her office when Booth noticed that she appeared to almost scurry away from him and so he decided to follow her. He knew that something wasn't okay with her and she was withholding the reason from him to torture him. He stepped into her office and sauntered to her desk, "Listen Bones, you are eventually going to have to tell me what is bothering you. So you might as well just do it."

Brennan looked up at him with a shocked look on her face, "No, Booth, you are going to have to come to terms with the fact that I am not mad at you. But if you keep asking me what is wrong then I may very well become angry."

"See? You're doing it again. If you don't tell me what is bothering you, then I will have no choice but to tell Sweets."

Brennan looked up at him in shock, but by the determined look in his eyes, she admitted defeat and sunk back in her chair, "Fine."

"HA!" he said throwing his fists in the air victoriously, "I knew there was something wrong!" his gaze went from victorious to concerned as he knelt down beside her, "Bones, don't you know by now that you can trust me?"

"Well, I'm not so sure about that." She said straightening up in her chair. He looked at Brennan incredulously and grabbed her hand without permission. She immediately tried to pull back but he refused to let her hand go to which she submitted.

"Bones, I don't know what this is about, but I can assure you that you can trust me. After all that we have been through, I would have thought that you would know that. So just tell me what is wrong so we can fix this."

Brennan let out sigh and sank back into her chair again, "The other day, when you were in my office alone and you got a phone call, I heard a part of what you were saying before you realized that I had come back in."

He looked confused but wasn't surprised that she had eavesdropped on one of his phone calls, although she would never admit that that was what she was doing. He kept his hand in hers gently rubbing the back of her hand, "What did I say?" he asked.

She closed her eyes and dropped her head, realizing now that her reasoning was both childish and rather stupid, "Ugh…You said… you know what? Nevermind. This is juvenile, I don't know what I was so upset about." She said trying to stand up from her char.

"No, Bones." He said placing a hand on her shoulder and pushing her gently back down into the chair, "Tell me. Please?"

She sat back down, seemingly unable to do anything other that what he told her, "You…you said I was annoying and a geek."

Booth laughed slightly until he noticed the upset look in her eyes, "Oh, come on Bones. You can't tell me that I don't annoy you sometimes." He said giving her a knowing smile, "And who ever said that being a geek was a bad thing? Geeks are always more successful than jocks anyways." Brennan had started laughing at this point, fully aware of the stupidity of her irrational anger.

"Not you, you're successful too." She said pushing his shoulder slightly.

"No, you're the millionaire Bones. Besides, I said I was annoyed with you, not that you were annoying."

"Well, why were you annoyed with me?"

"To be honest, I don't even remember." He smiled and looked into her eyes, "I'm sure it wasn't anything important anyways."

The fact was that Booth knew exactly what he was annoyed about. Brennan had accepted to go on a date with a man who worked at the F.B.I. He didn't like it when she dated anyone, convincing himself that it was a conflict of interest due to her split attention between her personal life and her work on the cases. He knew that that was not a good reason to be upset with her, but he had been upset nonetheless.

Brennan stood and shook her hand free from Booth's grasp and left the office with Booth following closely at her heels. She rounded the corner into Hodgins' office to see Angela and Hodgins inappropriately making out. Booth stopped shortly behind her trying to avoid knocking her over when he noticed the couple as well. Brennan coughed, attempting to make her presence known.

"Sweetie!" Angela said breaking away from the passionate kiss. Her grin was extremely wide and Hodgins appeared to be awestruck by his fiancé.

"Doctor Hodgins," Brennan said attempting to make the situation less awkward for herself. She looked down at her shoes to avoid eye contact with either of them, "I need you to get particulates off of the body. We need to be able to get the bones cleaned so Angela can do a facial reconstruction as soon as possible."

"Okay Doctor B." Hodgins said breaking his eyes away from Angela for only a moment. Both Angela and Hodgins were beaming which was somewhat normal for them, but in this particular instance it seemed they were in a state of euphoria.

Booth cleared his throat, "Is there something going on?" he asked with a small smirk on his face.

Angela walked out from behind Hodgins desk and started walking toward Brennan and Booth when Brennan blurted out, "Oh my God, Angela," she said pointing at her lower body, "You're three months pregnant!"

Angela rolled her eyes and sighed, "Leave it to you to ruin the announcement." She laughed.

Booth smiled widely and walked to Angela and kissed the top of her head, "Congratulations." He said and then made his way to Hodgins to give him a firm manly handshake.

Brennan immediately hugged Angela, "I didn't mean to ruin your announcement, but congratulations."

"Sweetie, to be quite honest I thought that you would have already noticed, but thank you."

"I've just been so preoccupied." She said releasing Angela from the hug. Angela laughed and the two just stared at each other for a moment before Angela squealed and turned back to the boys.

Brennan was truly happy for Angela. She knew that having a baby was something Angela had always wanted and now it had become a reality.


	2. Chapter 2

"Sweetie, I have the reconstruction done." Angela said walking into Brennan's office.

Brennan had been working on paperwork all day that Booth had dropped off about their previous cases. At least once a month he would come in with a bunch of files that needed to be completed by her and it would leave her chained to her desk for the entirety of the day. She hated it because she knew that when he avoided doing his paperwork, she would inevitably have to give up time spent with limbo remains to finish the case reports.

"Great," she said closing one of the files and putting it on a small stack of completed work, "Did you get any hits?"

"Yeah, one Ashton Crimsmore. He was a student and George Washington University. He was reported missing by his parents who hadn't been able to contact him for over a week." Angela gave Brennan the missing persons file and crossed her arms in front of her.

"Great Ange, thanks, I'll tell Booth." Brennan sat the file on her desk and rubbed her eyes wearily.

"Bren, maybe you should go home. It's five o'clock. Get some rest, you've been working yourself to the bone."

Brennan looked up at her with a whimsical smile on her face which Angela returned.

"I really have to finish this paperwork, but I promise that when I'm done with it, I will go home."

"Fine then," Angela said uncrossing her arms, "Have it your way!" she smiled and left. Hodgins came in next with his jacket in hand and his messenger bag slung across his torso.

"Hey Doctor B, just wanted to let you know that all of the particulates are indigenous to the area at which the body was found. There were however traces of alcohol on the body."

Brennan looked up at him, "Consumed or poured on the body?"

"Consumed. It appears that he may have been drinking before he was murdered, however it was a very small amount, and for a guy his size, I would venture to say that he didn't even feel the effects of the alcohol."

"Do you know what kind of drink it was?"

"Rum." Hodgins answered simply. Brennan nodded her head and Hodgins turned to leave.

"Doctor Hodgins?" Hodgins quickly turned on his heels and looked back at her, "Tomorrow when you come in, I would like you to take another look at the alcohol that you found, see if there may have been anything other than alcohol." He nodded and went to leave again when her voice stopped him, "And Jack," she said turning her chair to face him, "Take care of Angela."

He smiled quickly, "You know I will." And with that, he left the Jeffersonian for the night hand in hand with Angela.

Brennan picked up her cell phone off her desk and dialed Booth's number.

"Booth." He stated simply after picking up at the other end.

"You know that I hate you right now, right?" She said smartly.

He laughed and switched ears, "Aw, come on Bones, you know you love paperwork."

She rolled her eyes, "That is not true, I love my work, I do not love doing your work."

"Nah, see, I don't buy it. First of all, that is _our_ paperwork which I have already done my part of. And I know how much you love staying in the lab till all hours of the night, and I am finally giving you a reason too!" he said trying to contain his laughter.

Brennan growled and let her head fall gently onto her desk, "I wouldn't be here all night if you had done your part in a timely manner. Maybe I should receive these forms first so that way you can get stuck at the Hoover building all night."

"Well, what would be the fun in that? If you received the paperwork first then…" Booth said as his voice was coming through more clearly, "I wouldn't be able to do this." Brennan instantly felt a sharp and quick pain on the top of her head. She grabbed the point of irritation and lifted her head off of the desk, phone still in hand to see Booth standing in her doorway with a sheepish grin on his face. She hung up the phone and rubbed her head.

"That hurt, Booth! What was that?"

"A rubber-band." He said hanging up his phone and sliding it back into his pocket,

"Anything new on the case?" he said walking towards her.

"Yes actually, we have an ID on the victim. His name is Ashton Crimsmore. He is a student at George Washington University." She said handing him the file.

"Great. Tomorrow, you and I will drive out there and talk to some of his cheerleader gal pals."

"Booth, I have to finish this paperwork that you unloaded on me."

"You have time for that." He said waving his hand dismissively and giving her his infamous charming smile.

"I am going to be working on this all night then." She said drearily looking over the stack of unfinished files.

"Oh, no you aren't. You're coming with me." He said throwing the missing persons report back on her desk and dragging her out of her seat by grabbing her arm.

"Booth, I have to get this done. Where are you taking me?" she asked clearly annoyed by him. He grabbed her jacket and purse and dragged her out of her office.

"We're going to eat, Bones. Humans do it to survive on occasion." He retorted.

"Is that so?" she asked sarcastically.

"Multiple times a day apparently." He said glancing back and smiling at her, "I hear it's rather enjoyable as well."

* * *

The next day was unbearably hot for it being September. Brennan was strapped into the seat of Booth's company gas guzzler with the slight shimmer of sweat glazing her brow. She couldn't help but notice that Booth was dressed in a suit.

"How are you possibly able to wear a suit in this weather?"

He glanced over at her with his sunglasses masking his eyes. He smiled at her, "It's not that bad." He chuckled, "and besides, I've been in more excruciating weather. Mind over matter, Bones." He said turning on his blinker and stopping the car making sure that it was clear to make the left hand turn into the college.

"That is ridiculous. You could become dehydrated by wearing so much in weather like this." She said turning her gaze out the passenger side window.

"I have a case of bottled water in the back." He said, "Ya know, Bones, if you want me to strip for you, you just have to ask." He said smiling at her.

She rolled her eyes and laughed, "No, thank you. If I wanted a strip show, there are numerous places in the city that I could go to."

"Bones!" he exclaimed, and even though she couldn't see it, she knew his eyes widened like a deer in the headlights behind his sunglasses, "I do not need to hear that."

"What?" she said turning her now stunned gaze back to him, "You were the one who brought it up! And for your information, the only time I have ever been to one of those establishments is when I was forced to go."

"Ah! Would you stop it with the sex talk already?"

"I didn't say anything about sex, Booth." She said crossing her arms and laughing at his prudishness.

He parked the car in an empty space and turned off the engine, "Yes, you did. Just because you didn't say the word sex doesn't mean that it wasn't implied."

"There is no direct correlation between visiting a strip club and a sexual encounter. When women go to see a stripper, it is not for sexual gratification as it is for a man…"

"Bones! Just leave it alone already!" he quickly interjected.

"Are you okay?" Brennan asked sincerely, "Recently, you have been giving up far too easily."

"I'm fine." He said directing his gaze elsewhere. Brennan shrugged and opened up her door. Booth did the same and they stepped out onto the George Washington campus in search of the gymnasium.

They found their way to the gym, which was situated a mile and a half away from where they parked their car. By the time they had gotten there, Booth's coat was slug over his shoulder and he was sweating profusely. Brennan couldn't help but laugh at him with a certain smugness which he knew he would be hearing about later. They walked into the gym and found that there was a small group of young men playing basketball and a few girls on the bleachers watching the game.

Booth and Brennan approached the bleachers and climbed up the steps to meet them.

"Hello," Booth said charismatically, "We're looking for the cheerleading coach."

A busty blonde looked up at the man with a surprised expression. She stood up immediately and placed her hands on her hips, "Why are you looking for her?" she said defensively. Booth looked at Brennan and took his badge off of his belt and flashed it at the girl.

"Special Agent Seeley Booth, with the FBI." He said confidently.

The girl snatched the badge out of his hand and examined it carefully. She cleared her throat and tossed it back to him.

"Fine," she said eyeing him up, "Follow me." The girl gathered her belongings which consisted of a messenger bag that appeared to be full of books and a few extra books which she carried in her hands, leaning them against her hip. She skipped down the steps and Booth and Brennan followed behind her.

"You're a cheerleader?" Brennan asked, already knowing the answer to the question.

The girl turned slightly and smiled at her, "Yeah, how did you know?"

"Well, the way you move." She said, "You move like a dancer, confident steps, extremely graceful." She said. Booth looked at Brennan in surprise; she never ceased to amaze him.

"Yeah, I've been dancing since I was young. My mother put me in lessons when I was three years old. She said that grace is a virtue." The girl smiled.

They made their way down a long hallway and the girl turned and pointed at a door, "This is your stop." She said cheerfully. She removed her phone from her bag and began to dial a number and walk away. Booth watched her walking down the hallway before knocking on the door.

"Come in." A voice called. Booth turned the handle and pushed the door open. They walked into the office noticing the plethora of awards and banners that adorned the walls and shelves in the office. Behind the desk sat a petite brunette who was conversing with someone on the phone. She stuck her index finger in the air without looking up signaling that she would be done in a moment, "Yeah, I understand." She said nodding, "No that's okay, sweetie. Don't worry about it. Okay. If you need anything else, just call. Okay, bye." She hung up the phone and looked up at the two people who had entered her office, "What can I do you for?" she said in a perky tone of voice.

"Hi," Booth started, "I'm special agent Seeley Booth and this is my partner Doctor Temperance Brennan."

"Oh my God!" the woman shrieked and jumped up from her desk, "I love your books!"

Brennan smiled slightly and nodded, "Thank you. I'm glad that you like them."

The woman walked out and around her desk and stuck her hand out at Brennan which Brennan hesitantly took, "It's so great to meet you. We have a book club in my neighborhood and we always read your books the month that they come out. Would you mind terribly signing one for me?" She said placing a hand over her heart in an endearing and slightly annoying way.

"That won't be a problem at all." She said looking at Booth in her peripheral vision. He knew that this made her extremely uncomfortable and he found himself highly amused by it.

"Great!" the woman squealed scurrying back behind her desk to whip a copy out, "Oh my God!" she said flipping to the dedication page, "You're totally the guy she dedicated the book to!" she said referring to Booth, "You must be so honored!" she said bringing the book up to her chest.

"Yes," Booth said clearing his throat, "It was indeed," he said looking at Brennan, "an honor." He smiled and then turned his attention back to the coach. Brennan hurriedly took a pen out and signed the book, hoping that they could leave the subject as soon as possible. Booth checked out the name plate that sat on the coach's desk: Coach Jenna Markely.

"Coach Markely," Booth said, rousing her from her ecstatic state, "We're here about a possible member of your squad. Has anyone gone missing in the past month?"

Jenna Markely fixated her eyes upon the ceiling in thought, "Well, Ashton hasn't been here, but he is supposedly on a trip across country." She said bringing her gaze back down to the attractive FBI man.

"Was he with anyone on this trip?" Booth said taking his notepad out of his pocket.

"No, I was told that he was alone." She said, her features furrowing in concern, "Why? What happened?"

Brennan interjected, "We found his body on the side of the interstate yesterday."

"What?" the coach said, taking a seat behind her desk in shock, "That can't be right." She said bringing her hand up to her mouth. Booth looked at Brennan suspiciously.

"Have you heard anything at all that might suggest that he was in any sort of danger?" Booth asked adjusting the legs of his pants.

The coach shook her head vigorously, "No, I haven't heard anything like that." She said on the verge of tears.

Booth nodded his head, "We are going to need to talk to the members of your squad to see if they had heard anything."

The coach grabbed a tissue from the box on her desk and nodded wiping the tears from under her eyes, attempting to not smear her eye liner, "Sure, there is a home game tonight. It's the first football game of the season. I'll inform the squad that you are coming."

Booth stood up and Brennan did the same, "Thank you for your time." Booth said leaving the office with Brennan quickly behind him.

"Do you think she was lying?" Brennan asked in a hushed tone.

Booth pinched his lips together and shook his head, "I don't think so. She may know something more about Ashton's situation, but she certainly didn't know about the murder."

Brennan nodded and followed him out of the gym and back towards their car.

* * *

They arrived early at the game to try and talk to the girls before they went out on the field. They had all shown up to the stadium dressed and in their locker room they primped and curled their hair and smoothed glitter body gel on their arms and in their hair. Booth found the sight oddly funny because it reminded him of his days as an athlete and the time when his father found out that he had been making out with Vanessa Taylor solely based on the fact that his son didn't normally wear glitter.

Brennan found the whole sight degrading and wasteful. These girls were using valuable study time to parade their bodies around for a group of alpha males and spectators who merely showed up to ogle their bodies.

They interviewed a few bubbly young girls who merely repeated the information that they had already known from talking to the coach and what had been reported in the file that they had received from missing persons.

"Okay," Booth said looking down at a roster that they had received from the coach, "Maggie Fitzgerald?" He said raising his voice so that he could be heard over the squealing and nonsensical chatter. A girl perked up and ran towards them; it was the girl who had led them to the coach's office earlier that day, "Okay Maggie, When was the last time you saw Ashton?"

"I saw him at practice," she said plainly, as though the questioning was a waste of her time, "He's my stunting partner. Look, I really don't have any pertinent information. All of them," she said referring to the others in the room, "and Ashton are all undergrads. I'm working on my doctorate, so I really don't have a lot of time to be hanging out with them other than practice and games."

Brennan perked up, "You're working on your doctorate and you're on a cheerleading squad? Don't you think you should be focusing all of your attention on your schoolwork?"

"For most people, yeah, I guess that is what normal people do. I find that having an extracurricular activity keeps me more focused on my work and helps my time management."

Brennan nodded her head in understanding, "That must be hard. What program are you in?"

"Law School." She said. Booth and Brennan's eyes widened simultaneously, "Yeah, I'm sure the last thing you would expect a cheerleader to be is in Law School, right? You were thinking more along the lines of… what? Fine or performing arts?" she said.

Booth shook away is surprised face, "No, that's really great, actually. You just blew all of my prior knowledge of cheerleaders out of the water, is all."

She laughed and looked down at her watch when she heard the captain say that it was time to head out on the field. She smiled at them both and walked away, hurrying to catch up with the other girls. Booth and Brennan followed after her.

"Hey," Booth called, "We weren't done talking yet."

The girl turned to look at him, "I don't have anything to say." She yelled back. She entered onto the field and got into position with the other girls. Booth walked up to her and bent down to meet her eyes. She didn't look at him.

"I need to talk to you. I think that you know more than you are telling me." He said softly.

She glanced at him and returned her eyes to the field, "I don't know anything, now leave me alone." She whispered.

Booth grabbed her arm lightly, "Yes you do."

She turned to glare at him, "No I don't." she said slowly, emphasizing each word.

A football coach was walking past when he saw the two arguing and Booth's hand wrapped firmly around her arm, "Hey!" he said running over to them, "Get your hands off of her."

Booth took his badge off of his belt and flashed it at the coach who backed away mumbling apologies. He then waved his badge around to make sure that everyone knew who he was. Maggie tensed up, her eyes growing wide. Booth noticed this; he thought he had her right where he wanted her.

Maggie looked away from Booth and into the stands where she spotted three men walking up the ramp and into the bleachers. She growled to herself and wriggled free from his grasp, "I said I don't know anything!" she yelled and slapped Booth hard across the face.

Booth brought a hand up to his cheek; Brennan was standing behind him awestruck at the event that had just taken place. Booth forcefully turned her around and cuffed her behind her back. She writhed away from him trying to get free.

He smiled smugly, "You know," he said, "For such a smart kid, you're a real idiot. You are under arrest for assaulting a federal agent."

Brennan looked at Booth questioningly. They started to head out of the stadium and back to his car. He pushed Maggie into the backseat and Brennan and Booth situated themselves respectively up front. Brennan turned to look back at Maggie, "Why did you do that?" she asked. Maggie remained silent, staring at Brennan.

Booth buckled his seatbelt and turned the ignition, "She's most likely our killer, Bones. That is why she did it."

"That's illogical, Booth." He looked up at her skeptically, "She's a law student. She knew that you would take her in."

Booth turned to face Maggie and saw that she was shaking her head and avoiding their eye contact. Booth turned to face forward and thought for a moment then slumped over in his seat, "You have GOT to be kidding me."


	3. Chapter 3

The three of them, Booth, Brennan and Maggie sat in an interrogation at the Hoover building staring at each other. Booth was staring down Maggie, Maggie was staring at the floor and Brennan was looking back and forth between the two of them, not quite sure what was going on. Finally Booth adjusted himself in his chair and leaned toward across the table toward Maggie.

"What is your real name?" he said quietly.

She cleared her throat and met his eyes, "You tell me, Agent Booth." Booth leaned back in his chair and examined the girl.

The door to the interrogation room burst open and Charlie walked in looking panicked and sweaty. He was out of breath and he handed a file to Booth who curtly thanked him. Charlie quickly bolted from the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Booth flipped open the file and read the first few lines, "Agent Emma Grayson, Age twenty five: Organized Crime."

"Oh." Brennan said, finally understanding the situation, "You're an undercover agent." Emma and Booth looked at her questioningly.

Booth sighed and flipped the file shut, "What kind of organized crime could possibly be going on involving a cheerleading squad?" he asked, rolling his eyes in the process.

"You," Emma started, "are not cleared for that information." She said crossing her arms in front of her and let a victorious smile spread across her face.

Booth laughed slightly and then abruptly leaned toward her again, "Listen to me, you pom-pom egomaniac, you tell me what is going on. There is a dead boy sitting on a cold slab awaiting justice for his murder."

"Booth!" Brennan scolded, "Why are you being so mean to her? She's on your side."

"She is not on my side, Bones." Booth said leaning back slightly, "She is withholding information that could help us find our murderer."

"No, you're just being a jerk to her. You know that she can't tell you anything without the proper clearance."

"Thank you, Doctor Brennan." Emma said, "Patience grasshopper." She said smiling again at Booth.

Booth leaned back in his seat again. A cell phone began ringing in the room and Booth looked over at Brennan to see if it was hers. She shook her head and they both looked at Emma who reached in the top half of her skimpy uniform and pulled out her phone. Booth rolled his eyes and Brennan laughed. Emma stood up from her seat and answered the phone call; she was slowly pacing around the room with one hand on her hip. Every once in a while she would respond to the caller with an 'uh-huh' or an 'okay' until she finally hung up the phone a placed it on the table, regaining her seat across from the detective and cleared her throat.

"Okay," she said leaning in, Booth and Brennan both leaned in matching each other in curiosity, "Back in May, we received a tip from another undercover agent that the Canterelli's have been working with the board of directors at the college. Primarily, the sporting division of the school. I was placed undercover at the beginning of this school term to work on finding out exactly who it is they are working with."

Booth looked at her curiously, "What could a mob family possibly want from a college or athletics department?"

"Their kids go to the college, they get straight A's, and they are put on athletic teams as starters. In return, whoever it is gets compensated for helping them out. The syndicate also receives kick backs from ticket sales. It's really quite brilliant." She said.

"What about Ashton? What does he have to do with this?" Brennan asked.

"Ashton Crimsmore had been dating a girl on the squad who was also the daughter of one of the Canterelli higher-ups. He came into some information about the whole deal that they had with the college and when he broke up with her, threatening to tell the authorities, he was killed." She stated matter of fact. The three of them leaned back in their chairs and let the entirety of the information that was relayed soak in.

"Who was the girl?" Booth asked.

"Melanie Roselli." She replied.

"Okay," Booth said, exhaling, "Let's go then."

"Where are we going?" The two women said in unison. They looked at each other stunned and then back at Booth who appeared to be just as taken off guard.

"Um… we're going to the Jeffersonian." He said nervously, looking between Brennan and Emma.

* * *

Brennan and Booth walked into the Jeffersonian. Brennan swiped her ID card and the two of them quickly mounted the platform and made their way to the body. Emma stayed outside the building to call her handler and inform him of her whereabouts and let him know what information she had passed along to the agent and his doctor. Hodgins quickly approached Brennan with a file in hand.

"You were right," he said, "There was an agent in the alcohol that I recovered from the body, Orbb'st Ssrin, also known as the 'Spider's kiss'. It's made from the venom of five or more different spiders that are not indigenous to the U.S."

"How long would it have taken to kill him?" Brennan asked.

"Two to six minutes." Hodgins replied.

Brennan eyed the body and looked back at Hodgins, "Good job."

Angela mounted the platform and walked over to where Brennan and Booth were standing, "Anything interesting?"

Booth looked at Brennan and smirked, "You have no idea."

Angela looked away from the body and up at the entrance of the Jeffersonian, "Woah!" she said her jaw dropping slightly, "Who's the cheerleader hottie?"

They all looked up to where Angela was looking and saw Emma fiddling with her phone and strutting into the Jeffersonian.

She bounded up the platform, setting off the alarms and looked up at Booth, "You need to take me back to campus at some point, you realize?" A guard at the bottom of the stairs cleared the alarm system and the piercing noise ceased.

Booth eyed the young girl, "I'll take you back when I feel like it, consider that a punishment for keeping us out of the loop for so long."

"One more thing," Hodgins interjected, "This particular poison is rare; extremely hard to come by. It was most likely smuggled into the country."

"Which means we won't be able to trace it to a buyer." Brennan said looking over at Booth.

* * *

Booth's SUV rounded the corner on the GW campus headed straight for the dorms to which he would drop off Emma at her residence. She sat in his passenger seat, slumped down with her knees resting in the dashboard. The glitter that had once decorated her hair was now resting on her shoulders and on the back rest of Booth's car. He smirked slightly at the sight of her, noticing that all of her cheerleader pep had been abandoned and the tired, sluggish, and essentially more humane part of her took over.

"What are you going to tell them when you get back?" he asked.

"I'll tell them that you took me in for assault and that you let me go because you thought I was cute or something." She shrugged.

He laughed at her comment, "Are they really going to believe that?"

She glared at him, but was too exhausted to allow the expression to linger, "Of course they will." She remarked, "They'll probably ask me if we had sex in the interrogation room."

Booth laughed again, but more heartily than the previous time, "So, did we?"

A grin appeared on her face, "Sure, I'll tell them that I gave you a freebee to let me go without a record."

They both laughed this time and Booth shook his head in disbelief, "Hey!" he said, "I had sex with a cheerleader! Again!" he said, tears streaming out of his eyes from laughing so hard.

She laughed at the sight of him and pointed her finger toward a building a few hundred yards away, "Just for the record though," she said with her laughter now dying down, "You're not my type."

Booth looked at her with a sheepish grin, "You're more than ten years younger than me. And for the record, you are not my type."

"Liar!" she said under her breath, giggling at his blatant attempt to falsify his own personal truth. He heard her, but he couldn't help but laugh at the whole made up story and the thought of her actually having to gossip about it with the other cheer-gals.

"So," he stated, pulling up in front of the building that she had pointed out and putting the car in park, "Are you gals going to dress up in your slinkiest lingerie and talk about the stunningly handsome FBI agent who cuffed you and took you only to ravish you on the cold metal table in the interrogation room?"

She looked at him with a hint of playfulness in her eyes, "I'll probably just say that you said something like, 'I'm sorry, really, This never happens to me!' and they'll most likely believe it." She said with an evil grin coming to her face as she spoke the words.

Booth's jaw dropped and his eyes grew wide, "I am ALWAYS able to perform!"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll have to ask Doctor Brennan about that." She said opening the door to the SUV and hopping out. Before he could correct her, she had already shut the door and was on her way up to the door way of her building.

He slumped down in his seat for a moment before forcefully putting the car in drive again and speeding off.


	4. Chapter 4

Booth's cell phone rang at seven thirty the next morning. He groaned loudly and groped for his phone without opening his eyes. He accidentally knocked his alarm clock off of his night stand along with his watch and wallet until he finally was able to grasp his vibrating phone. He flipped it open and held it to his ear, "What?" he grumbled.

"Hey, It's Emma." She said in a lively voice.

"Again, I say, what?"

"Ooh, someone isn't a morning person." She giggled.

"I'm hangin' up…" he said playfully, but he didn't actually do it.

"Wait!" she said, "There is something that I have to tell you."

"Speak, woman! I have another half hour of sleep time and I don't want to waste it!"

"They want me to go on a date with you." She said flatly.

Booth opened his eyes and sat straight up on the bed, "That is so not happening."

"This, I am aware of. So, I'm thinking that you just come and get me and we'll go to the Jeffersonian or something. I'll study for my exams and you can, I don't know, grope your bone girl or something."

"Bones and I, are not a couple, F.Y.I." he said.

"Oh. Uh… really?" she asked sounding overly surprised.

"We're just partners. Common mistake." He rubbed his face briskly and swung his legs over the side of his bed.

"Okay well then, pick me up later at like, I don't know, two?"

"Okay, little lady." He said imitating John Wayne. He could almost hear her rolling her eyes at him.

"Fine, I'll see you then." She said hanging up on him. He closed his phone and chucked it back on his night stand and collapsed back on his bed.

* * *

Booth walked into the Jeffersonian confidently. He was swinging his arms widely and occasionally clapping his hands in front of him giving him the appearance of a man on top of the world. He strolled into Brennan's office giving her a wide smile when she turned to look at him.

"What are you so happy about?" she said blandly, rubbing her eyes and turning back to her computer screen.

"Another day, Bones. It's just another day to be alive." He said leaning on her desk and staring at the back of her head, willing her to turn around. She scrolled down the page on her monitor and highlighted a small section of the passage and rewrote the words quickly.

"Is that the new book?"

"Yeah," she said, "I'm just revising now. It should be good to go in a few weeks."

"That's great!" he said.

She turned to him with a scrutinizing expression, "What is with you today?"

He stood up straight and made a presentational hand gesture, "I don't know what you're talking about. Can't a man just be happy?"

"You're never like this." She said completely unconvinced.

"Ah, Bones, I just like being around ya. Accept it." He chuckled, leaning back down on her desk.

She let a small, awkwardly forced smile appear on her face before turning back to her computer and saving the document. She stood up from her seat and put her lab coat on before exiting the office. Booth followed her up to the platform to study the bones for the hundredth time that week.

"Do you have any leads yet?" she asked, glancing up at him for a moment.

"Nope. I'm waiting on your evaluation."

She abruptly straightened up and looked him dead in the eyes, "Booth, you can't wait on me to give you information before doing any research yourself."

"I know that," he said defensively, "But I don't have anything to go on."

"What about that girl friend, Melanie something?"

"I'm holding off on questioning her. I don't want to interfere with the undercover work and I also don't want to piss off any mob people."

She rolled her eyes at him and hunched over again to study the remains, "You are an FBI agent, Booth. Since when did you become scared to question a witness?"

"I'm not scared, Bones. I'm being… cautious."

Brennan scoffed, "I've known you long enough to know when you're full of crap."

Booth rolled his eyes, "If you didn't want me around, then you just had to say so Bones. I'm out. I have to go anyway."

Brennan looked up to see him already down the steps of the platform and on his way out of the building. She felt guilty for a moment. She had intentionally made him angry because he was in such a good mood. She just wanted to knock him down a peg, bring him to her level, like they always had been, but now she wished that she could take it back and start the morning over.

* * *

Emma stood outside her dorm at two fifteen that afternoon. Her messenger bag was slung across her body and the weight of her law books inside the bag was causing her shoulder to droop and her opposite hip to jut out under the pressure. Her arms were crossed and she was biting her lip when Booth's SUV had rolled up in front of her.

He smiled at her irritation from his tardiness and he leaned over the passenger seat and popped the door open for her, "Are you coming?" he asked, his eyes peering out from over the top of his sunglasses.

She walked toward the open door and stripped the messenger bag off of her and threw it on the floor of the car, "They're watching us." She said climbing in beside him.

Booth looked past her to find a number of girls peering at them through the window of the dorm. He waved at them, which caused an array of giggles and squeals that made him blush slightly.

"Ugh! Can we go already? What is this, the mister America pageant?" she said, slamming the door shut and crossing her arms.

He grinned at her, his sun glasses sliding down his nose, "I can't help it if I am a very attractive man." He laughed.

"You keep thinking that, champ." She laughed. He pushed her shoulder playfully and put the car in drive, making a U-turn in the middle of the road.

"So," Booth started, "Do you ever take that uniform off?"

"We have a game tonight. I won't have time to change, so I just wore it. The girls thought that I was trying to make you hot." She laughed and Booth joined her.

"You just had a game yesterday though."

Emma coughed out the rest of her laugh and then cleared her throat, "Yeah, this is a charity game tonight. At the start of every football season the football team plays against members of the faculty who are nominated to play by the student body. This year they are playing for cerebral palsy. And do you know what that means?"

"Cerebral palsy is a…"

"No, doofus!" she exclaimed, "That means that some of Canterelli's men are going to be present. So you actually have to take me back in time for the game."

"Okie-dokie." He said grinning and turning down a street that led them away from the Jeffersonian.

"You're going the wrong way!" Emma said pointing at the correct route that quickly was lost from her sight.

"No, I'm not." He giggled.

"TOOL! Where are you taking me?" she said raising her voice.

"Did you just call me a tool?" he asked.

"Congratulations, old man. Your hearing is still intact." She said crossing her arms.

Minutes later, Booth pulled the truck up in front of an ice cream parlor. He turned of the car and hoped out, turning back to see Emma staring at him.

"What?" he asked, a smile playing on the corners of his lips.

"You have got to be kidding me." She said.

"Well if you don't want any, then you can sit here and be a sour sally." He closed the door in her face and walked up to the window, reading the menu of flavors. Emma walked up next to him, mocking his stance, hands on hips widespread legs and a look of 'serious business' on her face while deciding between flavors. He looked down at her and shook his head, "Everyone loves ice cream." He stated matter of fact-ly.

"Some people grow up and don't play hookie from work to eat ice cream." She spat back, unable to keep the wide smile from appearing on her face. He gently swung his elbow to hit hers and went back to reading the menu.

Emma had ordered and was sitting on the back rest of a nearby bench with a sugar cone and two scoops of plain vanilla ice cream in hand. When Booth was done ordering, he carefully walked over the bench with an ice cream cone that looked like it was about to topple over at any moment. It was three scoops of both chocolate and vanilla and it was adorned with practically every topping that the ice cream shop had. She shook her head at him and scooted over on the bench allowing him room to sit down. He sat on the lower part of the bench and took a large bite of his ice cream, which made him look like a four year old who had stuck their face in their birthday cake. She laughed as he tried to unsuccessfully clean the chocolate fudge off of his face.

"So," he started, "You're young to be in the bureau. What is your story?" he asked, then taking another bite into his drooping ice cream.

"As if you haven't practically memorized my file by this point." She said sarcastically, licking a drip of vanilla off of her cone.

"Okay, you got me." He said raising one hand in the air in surrender.

She laughed, "It's okay, I looked you up too."

He nodded his head in understanding, and was attempting to speak, but the words were hindered by the chocolate glob in his mouth. He held up a finger to her, signaling that he was about to speak. He swallowed heavily and licked his lips for remaining hints of chocolate, "Yeah, I know what your file says, but that doesn't really give me insight."

She nodded, taking another lick of her ice cream and eyeing him up out of the corner of her eye, "It's a really long and boring story." She remarked.

He leaned back on the bench and raised his eyebrows, "Time is on my side."

She rolled her eyes at him and laughed, "Fine then. This is going to sound weird, but… well," she said shaking her head and looking away from him, "I used to act. Well, that's actually an inaccurate statement because I still do. I started when I was in the third grade. We were trying to put together a play at my elementary school, Annie, but it didn't work out. I started taking lessons and really working hard to get better at it. The thing that people don't realize about acting is that, when you actually get good at it, when you're really able to be convincing on the stage, it starts to seep out into your regular everyday life. It sounds stupid but, like, when a barista hands you a cup of coffee, you take it and go. To this day, I grab the cup and think to myself, 'is this how I would really grab the cup, or is this the way the character I'm portraying for the coffee shop audience would grab it?' I felt like, for every type of moment in my life I had a character which would make the situation easier for me, like some sort of twisted coping mechanism. I started to feel like I couldn't tell the difference between where I ended and my characters began. It's almost like having Multiple Personality Disorder, except you are fully conscious when the personality takes over." She shook her head and looked down at her ice cream, "I'm sorry, I went on a tangent. Anyways, I decided that if I was going to live a lie, I should at least try to help save lives in the process. I joined the police academy when I was twenty and started working with them. They had a small opportunity come up to go undercover so I jumped at the chance. While I was under, It turns out that the group I was investigating was part of something bigger and although I didn't know it at the time, there was a fed under in the larger circuit. A few months later the gang I was working for was busted and I was arrested with them. It took me forty-eight hours to obtain the proof necessary to show to this fed that I was actually an officer. When I finally was reprieved, he said that he had never seen an officer take on an undercover assignment as seriously as I had. A few months later, that FBI agent was promoted, and he used his pull in the agency to have me sent to Quantico and become an Agent for Organized Crime so that I could go undercover for them."

Booth was staring at her. His ice cream was mostly devoured and the cone had been chewed on, but he seemed almost frozen, which made her worry that he would no longer like her.

"You're dripping." She said softly. He looked down and noticed that the cone had a whole from which the minute remnants of his melted ice cream were dripping on his very expensive suit. He tossed the cone into the nearest trash can, grabbed some napkins from the ice cream store front and walked around to the back of his SUV which he opened and grabbed a bottle of water from. He sat down on the back bumper of his car and began to clean the ice cream off of his pants when Emma sans ice cream had joined him, "You totally hate me now, don't you?"

"What?" he asked defensively, "No, Emma. I don't hate you."

She sat down next to him and stared off in at an undetermined object, anything but at him.

Booth managed to get the ice cream stain out of his pants without damaging the material. He threw the napkin and the opened bottle of water in the trunk and leaned down on his knees, formulating the right words to say to her, "It's really… sad, that's all."

Emma turned to him and appeared confused, "Sad? Why is it sad?"

Booth looked up at her, "You basically implied that you have lost your entire sense of self."

"It's not as if it bothers me. It just is what it is. I like my alternate egos and I think that I portray a sense of confidence that not many people have. I am good at my job and it really doesn't matter how I do it, just that it gets done. Everyone acts a little bit. It's like when you pretend to be happy when you see your ex-girlfriend on the street even though you detest the mere thought of her much less seeing her in person. The best actors in the world are not famous. In truth, they are just random people walking the streets with regular jobs, mediocre self esteem and they're in debt just like everyone else. They've been able to convince people their whole lives that they are just like everyone else, but the truth is that they are so good at hiding their truth that they can't even find it. It's a sad existence, but we carry on."

"Why do you do that?" he said readjusting his jacket.

"Do what?"

"Pretend like it doesn't bother you when your words tell me differently?"

"It doesn't bother me. Maybe it should," she said raising her hands, "but as long as I can continue doing what I do best, I really couldn't care less."

They sat for a moment in silence. Booth looked over at her, studying her profile. When she felt him staring at her she looked up at him. He looked into her eyes attempting to grasp some semblance of understanding.

She quickly hit his forehead with the heel of her hand and said, "Biff!".

A wide smile cracked onto his face and the two of them laughed out the awkward moment.


	5. Chapter 5

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* * *

Sweets was sitting in a rolling chair the platform in the Jeffersonian waiting for Agent Booth to show up. Booth had cancelled the therapy session without rescheduling, and the countless phone calls that Sweets had made to him went unreturned. He figured that the only way that he was going to be able to fix the problem would be to ambush him. Brennan was going through her list of injuries and anomalies to the bones of Ashton Crimsmore and finding it extremely difficult to concentrate with Sweets not only staring at her, but rolling the chair that he was planted in over the seams of the platform making a loud bang with each roll of the chair.

"Doctor Sweets," Brennan said attempting to keep the irritation in her voice to a minimum, "Could you please stop that?"

The doctor looked around the platform and realized what he had been subconsciously doing, "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't even realize." He stood up out of the chair, placing it back at the desk from which he had stolen it from and placed his hands in his pockets, now completely at a loss of a way to entertain himself as he waited.

The doors of the Jeffersonian Medico-legal lab swung open and Sweets turned to see Agent Booth walking in followed by a young girl. Sweets' eyes widened at the sight of her like a geeky kid in high school who was ogling the popular girl.

"Sweets, what are you doing here?" Booth inquired, already knowing the answer.

"Uh… wha… um." Sweets stammered. He cleared his throat and tried to regain the ability to speak as Booth and the girl ran up the stairs to the platform to meet him, "Agent Booth, I came here to reschedule your appointment since you've clearly been avoiding my phone calls."

Booth rolled his eyes, "Fine. Tomorrow good?" he said looking at Brennan and then back at Sweets for confirmation.

"Yes, that would be fine." He said, trying his hardest not to look at the cheerleader, "Is four o'clock okay?"

Booth nodded, "Yep, that is fine." He stood in front of Sweets for a moment studying the young doctor's appearance. He seemed nervous and unsure of himself, but Booth couldn't care less about it. Sweets didn't move and was shifting his weight back and forth, looking down at the floor, "What are you still doing here? Don't you have some nut job to take care of?"

"Nut job?" Sweets questioned, looking up at Agent Booth, "If you mean my patients then no, I have no appointment to go to at the moment. I find it odd that you continuously refer to my patients as nut jobs regardless of the fact that you and Doctor Brennan are both in that category as well. You understand that by calling my patients nut jobs you are in fact calling yourself one as well."

Booth scowled at him and the girl behind him giggled at his comment. Booth turned to glare at her, which didn't seem to affect her in the slightest.

"What?" she said, "Oh come one, Booth. That was funny!"

Sweets smiled at the girl and laughed as well. The girl stepped forward and stuck out her hand at him.

"Hi, I'm Agent Emma Grayson. I'm in organized crime at the FBI."

Sweets took her hand and shook it vigorously which she laughed at. She couldn't help but think that he was cute in a slightly peculiar nerdy way.

"I'm Doctor Lance Sweets." He replied, "I also work for the FBI."

"Cool, this is like, and FBI pow-wow." She laughed, punching Booth in the shoulder. He winced at the pain and rubbed his arm at the point of injury. Emma rolled her eyes at him and walked between the two men towards the examination table where the remains of her stunting partner were laid out, "So, is there anything new that you have on the murder?"

Brennan glanced up at her without moving her head away from the remains. She didn't say anything to the young girl and kept her attention on the list that she was reviewing almost as though she were giving the girl the silent treatment.

Booth and Sweets followed behind her, Booth resting his hands on his hips, pushing his suit jacket back and Sweets placing his hands in his pockets. Emma bent down to look at the remains in a manner which mimicked Doctor Brennan's. She purposefully looked at Doctor Brennan and caught her eye. Emma smiled and stood up; Brennan following, "He was poisoned. It was most likely introduced to the body through an alcoholic beverage that was consumed within minutes of death."

Emma nodded and furrowed her brow, "That's odd." She said.

Booth turned to her, "Why?"

Emma gestured at the body, "Does poisoning someone sound like a mob hit to you?"

Booth shifted his weight and looked down at the body. Sweets looked at Emma and pouted his lip in thought, "Agent Grayson is right. The mob wouldn't kill someone with a toxic chemical. In all of the cases I've profiled concerning organized crime, the mob usually kills people through violent inhumane acts that are embarrassing and humiliating to the deceased as a punishment. This is something more personal about a poisoning. It's almost as though the person who killed Ashton Crimsmore was unable stomach butchering him in the manner in which a member of an organized crime syndicate would. This person most likely knew the victim very well and didn't want to see them suffer."

Brennan looked between Sweets and Booth, "Well if that is the case, then they also don't know very much about the poison that they used. It is most likely that the victim did suffer after ingesting the poison."

Everyone took a step back from the table in contemplation. Sweets crossed his arms over his chest and glanced up at Agent Grayson, "What's with the uniform?"

Emma looked at Sweets and then looked down at herself, "Oh, I'm undercover."

"If you're undercover, then why are you hanging out at the Jeffersonian with a bunch of FBI folk?"

Booth went to explain the situation, but Emma stepped in, grabbing his arms in a mock romantic way, "We're on a date." She said, resting her head on his shoulder and looking at him in an overly affectionate way. To any normal human being, this would have obviously been deemed as sarcastic, but to Brennan, it was the truth.

Brennan looked at Booth who was smiling at the joke Emma had made and she subconsciously crossed her arms and cleared her throat. This action was noted by Doctor Sweets, but went over Booth's head as he and Emma were making lewd comments about their "relationship".

Brennan immediately went back to her thorough examination of the bones, which by this point was done. She skimmed the list for any missing details and when she found there were none, she closed the file and went back to her office.

* * *

It was four o'clock and Brennan was sitting in her office, plugging away at the mountain of paper work that Booth had unloaded on her. Booth and Emma were at the Hoover building, Emma studying and Booth… doing whatever he does when Brennan wasn't around, which Brennan could only assume was taking a nap or plotting some way to get under her skin.

She had just finished another report when Sweets sauntered into her office.

"What does the FBI actually pay you for?" Brennan said opening a new file and reviewing its contents.

"And people say you have no sense of humor." Sweets said throwing her a smile that she rolled her eyes at.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I came to talk to you privately."

"Don't you have patients, or are Booth and I your only concern?"

"Interesting how I say that I came to see you and your first instinct is to mention Agent Booth."

"Your prolonged presence in my office is becoming an annoyance."

"I've only been here for a moment, Doctor Brennan."

She looked up at him with an accusatory expression, "And yet it feels like it has been an eternity." She muttered under her breath, "What do you want?"

Sweets nodded and let the game drop, deciding that there were more pressing issues at hand, "I noticed your reaction earlier when Agent Grayson had said that she and Agent Booth were on a date."

Brennan looked back down at the file that she had been working on, "I didn't have any reaction."

"Yes, you did." He stated, "Whether it was conscious or not, there was a definite reaction."

"I can't control a subconscious reaction, as you well know."

"And as you well know, if it was a subconscious reaction, it holds more validity in why I would need to confront you about it."

"Look, Sweets." She said, looking back up at him, "I understand what you're doing. I don't have time for this right now. I have paper work to catch up on and for the first time in my life, I would actually like to get out of here by five. So can't we just postpone this conversation for a later date?"

She was almost begging him to let it go, and while he felt that he should continue the discussion because of the magnitude of its potential effect on the partnership, he conceded.

Sweets strolled back out of her office deep in thought about the whole situation. When he reached the door, he knocked his fist on the glass once and turned back to Brennan, "Don't forget, we have an appointment tomorrow at four."

She nodded in response and lowered her head back to the file.

* * *

Hodgins and Angela reached the front door of the mansion, tired and worn out from a days work. Hodgins retrieved his keys from his pocket and shoved them in the lock, pushing the door open. He let Angela walk inside, a hand on her back in true 'pregnant lady' fashion. He stepped in behind her closing the door and pushing the pin into the alarm system, disarming and then arming it.

He dropped his bag on the floor, leaving his coat draped over it and walked up beside his woman and guiding her to the couch in the main entry way. She sat and leaned against the armrest facing him, letting out an exhausted breath and closing her eyes. He lifted her feet up onto his lap and removed her shoes for her.

Her shirt was touching her stomach and he stared at the round bulge that was now present. He smiled to himself and began massaging her feet which made her smile as well. She placed a hand on her stomach, gently rubbing it, trying to feel the life that was growing inside of her.

"I'm so happy." She said, her smile growing wider. She opened her eyes to look at Jack, noticing that he was also smiling and looking between her and her stomach.

"Me too, babe."

* * *

Emma was pissed at Booth. She had fallen asleep in his office while studying and he didn't wake her up until five. She was running into the athletics center, past the main desk and down the hallway that led to the locker room. She was fuming.

Out of what appeared to be nowhere, a leg came out and tripped her. She fell flat on her face and let out few choice words before turning over on the ground to catch a glimpse of what or who had caused her fall.

A short stocky man walked out from a dark corner with a malicious smile on his face. He was wearing a white shirt, brown leather jacket which appeared well worn and dry and a small gold chain with a crucifix hung around his thick neck that swung back and forth when he leaned over her.

His brown eyes studied her face gauging the amount of fear that he had caused her, which didn't appear to be much. His smile faded into a smirk as he closed the distance between their faces. His hot and extremely unpleasant breath made her cringe both outwardly and inwardly. She forced herself to stop breathing as to save herself from the mixture of bad breath and potential spit that would emanate from his mouth.

"I hear you're dating an FBI man, huh?" he said in a deep course voice.

Emma stared at him, realizing that she was unarmed and scared although she wouldn't let him know that. She had FBI physical combat training that she could use if he attacked her, but if she did it would not only be extremely uncharacteristic of a cheerleader, but the moves would immediately be identified as law enforcement which would inevitably blow her cover. She decided to play it off, "What's it to you?" She said defensively.

"Listen sweetheart," he growled, "I'm someone whose opinion matters. Break it off or next time I won't just be your pretty little face that gets bloody." He laughed and walked away, the sound of his footsteps echoing in her ears.

Emma hesitantly pushed herself into a sitting position. She winced while touching her face which was bleeding from the impact of the fall. She slowly stood back up and walked into the locker room.

When she walked in, the captain of the squad walked up to her looking angry until she noticed the blood on her face.

"Oh my God! Maggie! What happened?" she squealed.

"Oh," she said heading toward the mirror in the bathroom half of the locker room, "I tripped. I was running to get here because I was so late…" She wet a paper towel and began dabbing it at the wound. It wasn't bad, but the bleeding was almost profuse as it had been right on the side of her eyebrow. She could feel the area around her eye becoming sensitive and dreaded the thought of possibly having a black eye to contend with.

"Well, it's no big deal I guess." The captain said, feeling sorry for the girl, "I'm just glad you're here. Get ready quick though, because we have to support the Georgies!" she said excitedly.

"Sarah," Emma laughed, "We're all the Georgies, we're playing ourselves."

The girls expression dropped and she looked disappointed, "Spirit, Maggie. Where is your spirit?" She said, and then stormed back into the locker room to douse herself with more glitter.

Emma rolled her eyes and whispered to herself, "Up your butt…"


	6. Chapter 6

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Sweets sat in his chair comfortably splitting his attention between the two partners. It seemed as though he were watching a slow motion tennis match, his head shifting from one to the other in even time increments, eyes wide and attentive. He had a small smile on his face indicating that he was in a good mood, but not overly happy about anything in particular. After a few minutes of staring back at Sweets, Booth was convinced that Sweets may not actually be a human being but perhaps a robot built in the image of a Russian porcelain doll sent to America in order to spy on the government.

Brennan let out a sigh of boredom, she knew that she could be doing far more important things with the time that she spent wasting here, staring at Sweets. Quite honestly, she found his features bland and uninteresting. If she was going to stare at a person all day, she would have much preferred it to be someone who was interesting to look at; and at the very least a murder victim would always keep her occupied for hours on end. But Sweets was just a pale, gawky and rather plain looking kid; not enough visual stimulation for her; not by a long shot.

Booth rolled his neck back, letting his head rest on the back of his chair. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before popping his head up and eyeing Sweets; seeing if he was intending on speaking at anytime, which he didn't appear to.

"Okay, Sweets, let's get this show on the road." He said.

"Are you anxious, Agent Booth?" Sweets said, focusing his full attentions on Booth.

"No. You know that I hate that staring thing that you do."

Sweets laughed and settled back in his chair, "Why do you think that I do that exercise, Agent Booth? Because you don't like it?"

"I… have no idea why you do that. I wouldn't put it past you though."

"Why is that?" Sweets replied.

"Because you like making me uncomfortable."

Brennan leaned towards Booth and rested her hand on his forearm which was draped over his armrest, "I think he does it because he doesn't have anything to talk to us about."

Booth looked at her, raising an eyebrow at her, "So you're saying he is pretending to do an 'exercise' when in reality he is just… wasting time?"

Brennan nodded at him and they both looked back at Sweets whose brow was furrowed, "I can assure you both that the exercise has relevance and importance."

"Would you care to enlighten us on the importance of that exercise, Doctor Sweets?" Brennan said leaning forward with a cocky smile on her face. Booth smiled at this and leaned forward, meeting her in intimidation level. They were ganging up on him and Sweets didn't like it, not one bit.

Sweets shimmied back in his chair slightly, even though he had already been pressed up against the back and cleared his throat, "I don't feel a need to prove myself to either of you, Doctor Brennan. I am highly qualified for my position at the FBI and if I say it holds relevance, then that is all you need to know. Within limits, of course."

Brennan smiled and looked at Booth who returned the smile, "Well?" she said.

Booth's smile grew bigger, "Yeah, I think we've had enough for today, don't you think?"

Brennan nodded her head and they both rose and walked out the door despite the avid protest of Sweets.

It was nearing four thirty when Booth and Brennan arrived at the Jeffersonian. Hodgins was sitting at a computer up on the platform, Angela was lying down in her office and Cam was somewhere in the building, but they hadn't been seeing her much because of board meetings concerning budgets that quarried most of her time.

Brennan strolled into her office, tossing her jacket and bag onto the couch before tossing herself onto it as well. Booth sat across from her in one of the voluptuous arm chairs that the Jeffersonian had provided her with.

Brennan leaned her head back on the couch and smiled viciously, "Do you think we were too hard on him?"

Booth laughed, "Ah, the kid has a good heart, but I can't stand his games." He said waiving a dismissive hand.

A moment later, Booth began to vibrate, which shocked him to say the least. Brennan laughed at the muffled vibrating sound and the expression that Booth made when it occurred; a mixture of shock, surprise, ticklishness, it was extremely endearing. He stood up immediately, looking for his phone, which was somewhere on his person, but was apparently hiding from him. He found the source of the vibration in his back pocket and lifted the phone with a laugh, showing it to Brennan as he opened it.

"Booth." He said simply.

"It's Emma, where are you?" she asked quickly.

"The Jeffersonian."

"Stay there." She said, abruptly ending the phone call.

Booth flipped the phone shut and replace the phone in his back pocket and sitting on the chair, "Man, I hope she calls again." He said in jest, which sent Brennan into an extended fit of laughter.

Emma was standing on the corner of a street in a slum section of D.C. She had her hands in her pockets as the whether in town had gotten colder. Her blonde hair was lying straightened around her face, a scarf swooped twice tightly around her neck, a black pea coat and a pair of tight jeans. He legs were firmly planted together and her eyes were squinting to see into the window across the street.

The cut that she had sustained above her eye was now scabbed over and there was a small, but noticeable bruise that went with it. She was just happy that she didn't receive a black eye because of the incident. She wasn't attempting to hide her presence across the street from this restaurant, even though she most likely should have been. She almost felt as though alarming these people to her presence would make her job easier, despite the possible danger she may be putting herself in. They hadn't noticed her yet through the window, but there, just inside the restaurant was two main players in the Canterelli syndicate, yucking it up like they hadn't a care in the world.

She knew that one of them was responsible for not only Ashton's death, but also most likely sent that man, the lackey, to show her 'what for', and she was pissed off. She quickly turned on her heels, taking one last look at the men in the window and walked toward her car which was a few blocks away. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Booth's number.

When Emma arrived at the Jeffersonian, she had already removed her coat and scarf due to the extremely efficient heating system implemented in their building. She had her coat draped over her arm, with her scarf still loosely around her neck. She looked down while she ran a hand through her hair attempting to relieve it of it's static charge.

When she entered the medico-legal lab, she observed Booth and Brennan having one of their infamous arguments on the platform. She gallantly marched up the steps, setting off the alarm. Un-phased, she continued up the stairs until she came face to face with Booth's .45mm service weapon. She suddenly looked up, with an air of confidence and slight irritation, "Really Booth? You're going to shoot me?" she said flatly.

"Emma?" he said, clearly not recognizing her without the uniform on. He dropped his weapon, replacing it in his holster and took a step toward her, noticing the bruise and cut above her eyebrow, "What the hell happened to you?" He said waving to the guard to indicate that she was okay. The guard silenced the alarm and resumed his post.

She ran her fingers through her hair and sarcastically stated, "Oh, bad hair day." He rolled his eyes at her and pointed at the bruise, "That is what I wanted to talk to you about." Brennan walked up to the two of them, crossing her arms over her chest before looking at Emma, "I was givin this beauty yesterday before the game, some dude tripped me while I was running to the locker room saying that I'd 'better stop dating the FBI guy'."

Booth smiled, "Well, now you've got their attention." He said charismatically.

"I think this is actually good." She replied, "Just by looking through the database, I was able to identify the guy. He has a short record of petty theft and assault, but I was able to find his place of employment, and guess what?"

Brennan shrugged her shoulders and appeared annoyed, not wanting to guess anything, "What?"

"He works at a restaurant, along with some other identified pee-on members of the syndicate."

"Well, what does that mean?" Brennan said, shifting her weight uncomfortably.

Booth turned to her, "It could be a cover business."

Emma nodded vigorously, "Yeah, not to mention the fact that Melanie Roselli's father owns the restaurant."

Booth's eyes widened, "So this could be our crime scene?"

"Could be."

Brennan dropped her arms and placed them on her hips, "There is no substantial proof of that. The only thing that we have thus far is alcohol and a rare poison; there is nothing that links Ashton Crimsmore to that restaurant other than the fact that his… ex girlfriend's father owns it."

"She's right." Booth said, looking back at Emma, "There isn't anything we can do with this information."

"I already knew that." Emma stated, "Which is why I told my handler. He is passing the information along and we'll see what happens with it, but I just thought that I would inform you of where I am in my investigation."

Booth smiled at her and put a hand on her shoulder, "Thanks."

Brennan turned around and moved back toward the examination table.

"Hey!" said a voice behind Emma. Booth looked up to see Sweets swiping his ID card and marching up the stairs, fists curled and jaw tightened. Booth couldn't help but find his appearance laughable, "Our session wasn't finished."

Booth dropped his hand from Emma's shoulder and turned to Sweets, eyebrows raised, "That was over an hour ago, Sweets." He said, a triumphant smile coming to his face, "So either the DC traffic is really bad, or you were scared to come over here and confront us."

Sweets huffed and crossed his arms, "I am anything but scared of you Agent Booth." Booth chuckled slightly and Emma put a hand up to her brow, masking her disbelief and laughter, "How can you expect therapy to work if you only stay for fifteen minutes?" he said, darting his eyes back and forth between a humored Booth and an indifferent Brennan.

"Therapy is crap." Brennan retorted. Booth, Emma and Sweets turned to her, surprised by her statement. She looked up from the table and stared back at the three of them, "What?"

Sweets shook his head, "I'll let this slide once, but from now on, you will come to your scheduled appointments and stay for the allotted time or I will tell the Agency that you are uncooperative and suggest having you split up."

Booth's jaw dropped open and Brennan gasped staring at the doctor completely stunned.

Sweets crossed his arms in an attempt to stand his ground, "Then it's settled then?" Booth and Brennan didn't respond, and by that, Sweets took it as an agreement.

"Mmm." Emma hummed, feeling slightly awkward in the middle of the conversation, "Okay," she said clapping her hands, "I'm going to go now." She scurried down the steps and out into the lobby of the Jeffersonian.

Sweets nodded his head and turned, not looking back he descended the stairs and said, "See you next week!"

"Agent Grayson!" Sweets called to her barely catching up to her as she briskly walked out of the Jeffersonian into the parking lot.

"Oh, hey Sweets. What's shakin'?" she said turning to him slightly, but maintaining her speed toward the parking lot.

"I was wondering if I may speak with you for a moment."

She stopped abruptly and turned to face him, causing him to crash into her. She stood solidly and he almost fell to the ground until she grabbed his arm and steadied him. He coughed nervously and planted his feet firmly and professionally to the ground.

"What is it Sweets?" she asked smiling at him.

"Well, as you may already know, I have been studying the relationship between Agent Booth and Doctor Brennan for some time now. I have noticed that you as well as their colleagues and I are aware that they have romantic feelings for each other which they adamantly deny."

"I think aliens in another galaxy could see that they are head over heels with each other," she said sarcastically, "What does this have to do with me?" She was looking at him curiously, as she had since she first met the strange psychiatrist, and it made him nervous. Not only was she one of the youngest FBI agents in D.C., nor was it merely that she was possibly more intimidating than Agent Booth despite her petite stature, but she was… well, extremely good looking.

"Well, I was wondering if you might want to participate in a small experiment."

She crossed her arms and smiled slightly at the suggestion, "It depends on what this 'experiment' entails, and if I would be receiving any compensation for it."

"I'm afraid that I won't be able to provide any kind of compensation," he said looking disappointed at the lost prospect of them working together, "But how about I promise you that I owe you a favor for your help."

Emma looked at him deciding whether or not this opportunity could be beneficial, "Fine. What do I have to do?"

"Seriously?" Sweets said, sounding genuinely surprised and excited, "Oh, you won't regret this, I promise!" he bent down slightly and hugged her as though she had given him the best Christmas gift of all time. He back away again, cleared his throat and continued, "Okay so, what I am proposing is that the next time you, Agent Booth, Doctor Brennan and I are together that you and I mimic their behavior thus making them see behavior from an alternative party."

"And how exactly would that help?" she said laughing slightly at the suggestion.

"When it is revealed to them the intention of our actions-"

"Booth will kick your butt." She finished his sentence for him.

"That well may be Agent Grayson. But I'm aware of that possibility and accepting the possible risks." He said stoically.

Emma nodded her head affirmatively and turned to walk away, "Lance!" she shouted.

"Yes Agent Grayson?"

"I like a man who isn't afraid of danger." She winked at him, "And call me Emma for crying out loud!" She smiled at him and turned towards the parking lot with a small skip in her step. Sweets' goofy smile had taken over his face and he awkwardly shifted his weight and turned towards the direction of his car.


	7. Chapter 7

**Spread the word... Cheerman in the woods is kick-butt! R&R please**

Emma woke to the sound of the Vitamin String Quartet playing on her Ipod radio. She moaned at the sound both inwardly and outwardly before violently throwing the covers off of her tired and aching body. She rolled out of bed; eyes still closed and began getting ready for the day ahead of her.

* * *

Booth and Brennan sat in the monstrous SUV in silence. The sound of the wheels revolving was deafening and the tension in the car was practically tangible. Brennan's arms were crossed and she was intently staring out of the passenger side window while Booth's was looking from the road to his partner nearly every other second. Finally he decided to speak, "What's wrong Bones?"

"Nothing." She said; her pitch higher than normal in attempts to sound nonchalant.

"You know that I don't believe that." He said, incapable of holding in a small laugh.

"Nothing is wrong Booth." She said, finally taking her gaze off of the scenery and onto him. Her arms, still crossed, jutted upwards and landed with a thump on her chest.

"Why do I feel like I'm having Déjà vu?"

"What are you talking about Booth? You don't speak French."

"Déjà vu, Bones. The feeling of having done something before in the exact same manner as you currently are."

"That is actually an inaccurate translation."

"Bones!" he said getting annoyed, "Just tell me what is wrong."

Brennan thought for a moment. She couldn't tell him why she was really upset because to be quite honest, she wasn't sure why she was upset. She went for the next best thing.

"I just don't understand why you're so frightened to speak to Melanie Roselli. You should have done this days ago." She said, going back to her original position in the car.

"I'm not frightened by a cheerleader, Bones. I'm just being cautious, is all. I'm looking out for Emma's position in this whole thing and if I make a wrong move with this girl, I could be putting Emma in danger; not to mention myself and you."

"I can take care of…"

Booth interrupted her in a sing-song voice, "Déjà vu!"

Brennan rolled her eyes at his sudden outburst and wiggled herself more firmly into his passenger seat. She cleared her throat and quickly glanced at Booth.

"I want you to know that I think Emma is a really… she's nice." Brennan said awkwardly.

Booth looked at her skeptically, "Uh… okay."

"I just wanted you to know that." She said nodding her head once in approval and turning back to the scenery.

They arrived on campus and parked the car near Emma's dorm where the entire cheerleading squad resides and entered the building to find Melanie's room. They came to the door and Booth sighed heavily before knocking, unusually lightly on the door and waited.

A young perky girl opened the door and stared up at the Agent with a knowing grin on her face.

"Hey, You're that FBI hunk that Maggie is boinking." She said giggling to herself.

Booth uncomfortably cleared his throat, glancing over at Brennan and took his badge off his belt buckle out of habit and showing it to the girl, "I'm special agent Seeley Booth and this is my partner, Doctor Temperance Brennan. We were wondering if we could speak to Melanie Roselli?"

The girl's face dropped into a somewhat cautious and uneasy grin, grinding her teeth and looking down the hallway before looking back up at the agent.

"I'm not sure that that is a good idea." The girl said.

Brennan stepped closer to the girl, "Is she here? We need to speak to her."

"No," the girl responded, "She's actually at class right now but I can tell you that she is still pretty broken up about the whole Ashton thing. She hasn't stopped crying about it."

Booth nodded his head and dug into his lapel pocket to extract his business card, "Tell her when she is ready to talk to give me a call, but make sure she does, okay? She could be the only person who can put together the missing puzzle pieces in the case."

The girl nodded vigorously taking the card from the agent, "I will. Thank you for being so understanding."

With that, the girl closed the door and Booth's eyebrows raised in relief.

"What is wrong with you?" Brennan said in an accusatory tone.

"Nothing is wrong with me." He said starting back down the hallway ahead of her, "Believe it or not, I don't like putting my life in danger."

"That is a common fear, but also an irrational one, Booth." Brennan said flatly.

"Why is that sensei?" Booth retorted.

"Booth, you don't speak Japanese either? Since when did you start speaking foreign languages?"

Booth rolled his eyes and they both exited the building.

* * *

Doctor Sweets was in his office staring at the same file that he had opened up since he had first gotten to the office earlier that morning. He reread the same lines to the point where he could most likely recite the file by memory.

These two patients were the most peculiar he had ever seen. While they were polar opposites they had been able to forge a bond with each other so deep that they could potentially have a future together, not only professionally, but romantically as well. They were like ying and yang and on a consistent basis made the song "opposites attract" pop into the doctor's head, which only made it worse because he then had to fight the urge to laugh during their sessions with the Paula Abdul song playing on repeat for the entire hour.

It was extremely inspiring to see two people who normally would hate each other in any other kind of situation find solace and friendship inside of the cocoon that they had built for themselves during the time in their partnership. It made him feel jealous. That is the real reason he had wanted to study them in the first place. While the partnership did indeed hold validity in the context of his book, he really did just want to be around them; see if he could grasp exactly what it was that made them so content with one another. He hoped that he could have that kind of relationship too.

Sweets eyes had wandered off of the file and made it to the window. The sun was blazing outside despite the chilly weather that had finally decided to grace DC with its presence. He thought of the day before when he had spoken to Agent Grayson… Emma. Maybe she could be the ying to his yang. He shook the thought off. There is no way someone like her would ever date him. She was too far out of his league.

* * *

Emma's eyes were attempting to roll into the back of her head. Her head was bobbing up and down… awake… asleep, awake… asleep, awake. She was on the verge of finding the nearest gun in order to save herself from the cruelty that was property law. The phrases, 'no one cares', and 'shut up old geezer' were continuously popping in and out of her head as she listened to her ancient property law instructor drone on about liability and transfer of property.

She couldn't handle it. He didn't know her name and he had already taken attendance. He would never notice if she slipped out. She began to close her notebook and gather her things when the door of the classroom swung open. Agent Seeley Booth entered the classroom and held up his badge.

"I'm special agent Seeley Booth. I'm going to need to take Maggie Fitzgerald."

Emma almost suffocated trying to hold in her laughter at his grand entrance into the classroom. It appeared as though he had wanted to do something like that his whole life; imitating the movies.

The professor, who was stunned, quickly nodded his head, unable to communicate to the large man who had interrupted his class. Emma quickly gathered her things and skipped down the steps of the lecture hall toward the special agent, both attempting not to smile.

"This way, Ms. Fitzgerald." Booth said gesturing toward the door. Emma quickly turned on her heels and left the classroom. On Booth's way out, he grabbed the door knob and was about to close it when he noticed that the professor was saluting him. He quickly smiled and returned the gesture out of courtesy and then closed the door firmly behind him. He turned to Emma and saw her smiling at him oddly.

"What?" he asked.

"Why did you do that? I was in the middle of class." She said, unconvincingly defensive.

"I know a good head bob when I see it. That wasn't a class that was torture."

"Well played sir." She said laughing at his comment, "So, where is your girlfriend?" she asked, emphasizing the word 'girlfriend' like a five year old teasing a classmate on the playground.

Booth rolled his eyes and started guiding her down the hallway, "She went to get a bottle of water."

Emma nodded her head and then saw Brennan rounding the corner, head down watching her feet and holding an open bottle of water in her hand.

"Doctor Brennan!" Emma said cheerfully.

Brennan stopped abruptly and looked up in shock. She quickly regained her momentum toward the pair, putting on a forced smile, "Emma. How are you?"

Booth could tell that Brennan's words were not genuine and he smiled slightly noting her bizarre ritualistic behavior.

"I'm good, now that I'm out of that torture chamber." Emma replied, "How are you?"

"Wonderful." Brennan replied, her pitch again higher than necessary. This time however, Booth knew that she was lying through her teeth.

Booth, Brennan and Emma walked through the FBI building toward Booth's office discussing the present case which seemed to be coming to a dead end.

"This has never happened to us before, Booth. We always catch the guy. We get the murderer. It's as though someone is playing a game with us; testing our abilities." Brennan said, frustration lingering in her voice.

"I know, Bones. But we will get this guy. We have an almost perfect record; don't worry about it." Booth said, placing his hand on her back.

Emma had been trailing behind them, noticing the interaction between the two. Most FBI agents did not act the way those two did. It was genuine concern that emanated from them; not only for solving crimes but also for each other. Granted, Doctor Brennan was not FBI, but she was the next best thing.

"What about the restaurant?" Brennan asked Emma, tossing her a look over her shoulder.

"They have a guy on it." Emma replied.

"The restaurant most likely has nothing to do with our case though, Bones. Like Sweets said, this seems more personal. If he had been wacked the proper Mafioso way, then we would have more reason to investigate but I doubt that anything with Ashton Crimsmore's murder occurred at that restaurant."

Booth opened the door to his office and walked in, the two women trailing behind.

"But you can't say that for certain, Booth. You're gut can't tell you anything about the restaurant from five miles away."

Emma stepped into the office and her eyes grew wide. Booth was fiddling with some things on his desk with an inquisitive eye, this wasn't how he had left his desk.

"If we go there, it might…" Brennan said, being cut off by Emma.

"I had a dream about snap peas last night!" she said, almost yelling.

Booth and Brennan looked at her questioningly. Emma made a gesture with her head towards the wall behind Booth. Booth turned to look. He turned back to Brennan and Emma and flailed his arm in the air motioning for them to leave. The two women went outside the office and Booth took a piece of paper off of his desk and wrote a message on it.

He stormed out of his office and down the hall into Cullen's office, bypassing the secretary. He stormed in and saw Cullen on the phone. Cullen stood and immediately told the caller that he needed to hang up. When he did, he looked at Booth with a frightened and angry expression.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" he said angrily.

Booth held out the piece of paper and Cullen grabbed it and read,_ 'The FBI building has been breeched. My office is bugged."_


	8. Chapter 8

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Hey guys! Thanks for reviewing, keep it up why don't you?? haha Thanks so much and happy reading.

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Booth, Brennan and Emma stood outside the Hoover building staring up at it in disbelief. Booth's house- the house of justice- had been breeched. Not only that, but his own personal sanctum was apparently the focus of it.

There were a number of other Agent's walking around on the green awaiting news as to why the building had been evacuated, but the majority of the employees had either gone home for the day, realizing that they would most likely not be able to get anything done, or they had left to chase after leads and be in the field.

Cullen walked up to Booth with a look of disappointment on his face. Booth looked at him, residual anger still penetrating through his eyes.

"How could this happen? How long were they in there?" Booth said uncrossing his arms and gesturing at the building.

"I'm not sure, Booth. They could have been in there for an hour, or they could have been there all year. The team is sweeping the entire building for bugs, why don't you go home and get some rest?" Cullen said, patting Booth on the shoulder and then acknowledging the ladies next to him.

Booth had borrowed a black hooded sweatshirt from Charlie for Emma so that she could hide her identity from anyone who may have been watching the FBI building. The hood was up over her head and she wore a large set of black sunglasses that reminded Booth of Audrey Hepburn in 'Charade'.

Brennan stood by, observing Booth looking at Emma. She felt left out. She looked at the girl as well, still confused about what snap peas have to do with bugs in the office. Her gaze became scrutinizing. How had she seen such a small object? How had she been able to identify it from almost ten feet away? There were more questions than answers and that bothered her. She looked up momentarily to find Booth looking at her. She quickly looked away, pretending not to have noticed and cleared her throat.

"I have to get back to the Jeffersonian." She said, looking up the scale of the Hoover building. Booth nodded and started walking toward his car with the two women in his wake.

Emma had her arms crossed and wasn't speaking. Brennan studied her movements out of her peripheral vision. She was graceful, as Brennan had once pointed out; and although she hadn't been the one with the gut instincts like Booth, she felt as though there was vulnerability as well. But of course, there were no facts to back up such a hypothesis.

The three musketeers walked into the Jeffersonian and Sweets was on the platform waiting for them. Booth raised an eyebrow at the gawky figure stepping towards them and swiped his ID card to meet the twelve year old face to face.

"What do you want now?" Booth said.

Sweets held up a file and smiled like a geek on Christmas, "I'm doing a profile for you."

Emma and Brennan trailed up the stairs, Emma still wearing the sweatshirt and sunglasses crossed her arms around her small frame, causing the fabric to bunch. Brennan walked around Booth and snatched the file out of Sweet's hand.

"Hey!" he said, attempting to grab it back.

"I'm hungry, I'm going to go get something to eat." Emma said flatly, walking down the steps of the platform and moseying away.

Sweets watched her go and turned back to Booth and Brennan who were now leaning over the preliminary profile that had been laid out on the empty examination table, "Is she okay?"

Booth hummed in confirmation, not really sure what he was confirming. Sweets descended the platform and found Emma at the vending machine in the break room.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked approaching her. She poked a few buttons on the machine and her item dropped to the bottom, which she retrieved quickly.

She stood up and leaned against the machine looking at Sweets and opening a bag of pretzels, "Yeah." She said wearily, "I'm just tired and… I guess I'm in a funk."

"Why are you in a funk?"

"I really hate it when things like this happen at the Hoover building."

"Wait." Sweets said, his eyebrows furrowing, "What happened at the Hoover building?"

"Oh," she said, surprised, "No one informed you?"

"Informed me of what, Agen- Emma?" she stuttered.

"The FBI building was breeched. I found a bug in Booth's office. The building was evacuated for the rest of the day."

Sweets eyebrows raised and his gaze lifted off of her in contemplation, "Wow. That is probably a good thing for me to know. Luckily I brought everything I need here, except my jacket, but I don't really need that." He said dismissively waving a hand.

"Hey!" Emma said quickly, apparently shaking off her 'funk' and becoming excited.

"What?" he said, turning back to her.

"We could do that experiment!" she said with her eyes lighting up, Sweets mimicking hers.

"That is a scathingly brilliant idea." He said referencing the movie, 'The trouble with Angels'.

"Dude, I love that movie." She said seriously.

"Me too." He agreed.

"Okay," Emma said pushing herself off of the vending machine, "How are we doing this?" she whispered.

"Well, we'll each take on a role and imitate that person." Sweets said.

"No, I know that already. Who is who though?" She asked.

"Oh, well, I guess you can be Doctor Brennan and I'll be Agent Booth."

Emma raised both her eyebrows and shook her head, "Wait, no, that won't work." She said laughing slightly.

Sweets tilted his head in confusion, "Why not?"

"Because you are nothing like Agent Booth. You are much more like Doctor Brennan."

"Are you calling me effeminate?" Sweets asked.

"No, I'm just saying…" Emma looked away from him in thought to find the perfect analogy, "that you are brainy smurf, and I am smurfette."

Sweets nodded his head in understanding, "Okay, I see your logic. So, does that mean that you are likening Agent Booth to smurfette?" he laughed

She returned his laughter, "If he were a girl, he would _totally_ be smurfette!"

Sweets and Emma left the break room and started toward the platform where they could clearly see Agent Booth leaning over Brennan who was seated at a computer. As they got closer, she handed him a file and he took it and brought it back to the examination table to review. He most likely wasn't reading the contents, but he was attempting to give the impression that he was. He was far too distracted by the events of the day to care about approximate T.O.D. and follicles of silly 'what-have-yous' on the victim.

Emma skipped up the steps behind Sweets and momentarily after her, Angela was shortly behind them, with a now rounded stomach that was just barely visible underneath her tunic shirt. Lance grabbed the abandoned preliminary profile from off of the examination table and flipped it open at the opposite end of the table from where Agent Booth was. He started making revisions to it when Emma walked up behind him, eating a bag of pretzels. She was tossing individual pretzels in the air and then catching them in her mouth. She stood close to Sweets, which he made evident was a violation of his personal space through his body language and glares up at her. When she noticed his discomfort, she rolled up the pretzel bag, leaned on the table with one hand and placed the other on her hip.

"Sweets," she said, chewing the last of the pretzel in her mouth, "Do you need help with that? I'm pretty good at reading people, ya know."

Sweets looked up at her with an annoyed expression on his face, and when he looked at her, he couldn't help but notice that she was giving him the charm smile that Agent Booth presented to Doctor Brennan on a daily basis, "No, Agent Grayson. I am a trained FBI profiler. I don't need your help." He said looking back down at the file and letting the corners of his mouth turn up slightly.

"Are you sure?" she said, the smile becoming more pronounced and she waggled her eyebrows at him.

Sweets wanted to laugh; he was dying to laugh, but he knew that if he held it in, the experiment might prove useful. He bit his lip and squinted his eyes, "I am positive, Agent Grayson." He said coldly.

Emma smiled and shrugged and swallowed the remaining bits of pretzel and licking her lips, "Well, fine then." She looked over towards Booth and saw that although his head was still aimed towards the file, his eyes were on the two of them. She smiled and turned back to Sweets and took another step toward him.

"Stop hovering, Grayson." He said contentiously.

Emma smiled again and threw her arms up in protest, "What? I'm not hovering!"

"Ya know," Sweets said standing up straight to face her, "I would be able to get my work done a lot faster if you weren't hanging around here."

"Ah!" she said, pointing an aggravated finger in his face, "You know very well that I need to be here. My job is just as important as yours!" Both Sweets and Emma noticed out of their peripheral vision that they had the full attention of both Brennan and Booth.

"I highly doubt that, Grayson. Without me, you wouldn't be able to do your job."

"HA!" Emma shouted, "Without people like you, my job would be easier. All of you and your squinting and condescension!" she said while physically mocking squints as a whole.

The fight continued and by this time Brennan had stood up and crossed her arms over her chest. The partners stood next to each other heads tilted slightly towards each other, arms crossed with almost identical expressions of confusion slicked across their faces. Angela was about to descend the platform, but took the opportunity to lean between Brennan and Booth and study the fight for a moment before saying, "Huh, must be like looking in a mirror for the two of you." And with that, she left the confused pair and the fighting pair for the serenity of her office.

* * *

Booth and Emma climbed into Booth's SUV so that he could take her back to campus. This was becoming routine for the both of them considering Booth would constantly pick her up at random times of the day regardless of whether they needed her assistance or not. Since the cheerleaders on the squad had thought that they were dating, they needed to be seen together on campus frequently to not only alleviate the suspicions from the squad, but also to gain the attention of those involved in the Canterelli's.

Booth settled into his seat and peered over at Emma whose arms were crossed defensively over her chest and whose lip was pouting subconsciously. She turned to meet his eyes and dropped her hands, "What?" she asked.

"Nothing." He said raising his eyebrows and turning the key in the ignition.

They had made it out of the parking lot and onto the street before Booth had turned to look at her again.

"What?" she said again, this time her voice was higher pitched and annoyed.

"It's nothing… it's just…"

"It's just what? Spit it out, soldier!" she demanded.

"Do you like Sweets?" he asked, almost as surprised at his words as Emma was.

"What? What would give you that idea?" she retorted.

"It's just…" he said softly.

"Wow." She said astonished, "Who taught you grammar? You have no sense of sentence variation, do you?"

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and noticeably rolled them, "You seem to be… attracted to him."

"Are you jealous?" she said in jest, which he apparently did not pick up on.

"No, I am not jealous." He said flatly.

"Dude, it was a joke." She said laughing.

"You were arguing with him. That is why I asked." His eyes now glued to the road.

"In what world does an argument insinuate a crush?"

"This world." He said, pointing at the ground and emphasizing the words as he spoke them.

"Wait, so let me get this straight." She said putting her hands up in front of her, "If I fight with Sweets, then we like each other. So, when you fight with Brennan…"

"That is different." He interjected, "Bones and I are friends and partners. We have a line; a line which we do not cross."

Emma looked at him with confusion furrowed in her expression, "Why would you need a line if you weren't intending on crossing it in the first place?"

Booth's brow furrowed and his jaw tightened. He gripped the steering wheel and huffed. Without answering the question, he turned on the radio and pushed the volume up loud indicating that the conversation was over.


	9. Chapter 9

**Thanks for the amazing reviews. I hope you are enjoying the story. Let me know what you think! **

* * *

Emma was walking down the hall of her dorm room, back from the community bathroom. She was wrapped in an oversized white towel and carrying a case filled with all of the accoutrements necessary in the bathroom. Her hair was pinned up with a clip, still dripping from her shower and she slowly yawned, momentarily closing her eyes while walking back to her room.

When she opened her eyes, she found herself jumping back at the presence that had snuck in front of her. Her eyes widened slightly at the angry face and she stepped back contemplating the situation.

"You're boyfriend came to see me, Maggie." Melanie stated, crossing her arms.

Emma looked around the hallway to make sure that there was no one else around, "Um… okay." She said, shrugging her shoulders. She was confused by the sudden intimidation tactic that the girl was using. Cornered in a dark hallway; sneaking up on her when she was vulnerable, "I can't help that. It's his job."

"I don't appreciate being an assumed suspect just because I dated Ashton. Did you tell him about our relationship?" Melanie asked, taking a step toward her.

Emma took a step back and grabbed her towel tightly, "No, I didn't. We don't talk much when we see each other." She said with a smile coming to her face. Emma found the fake relationship amusing, especially when convincing people that they were insatiable in the sack.

Melanie scoffed and ran a hand through her slick brown hair, "Well, don't. I don't need him coming back here and prying into my life and if he does, I'll know it was your fault." She passed Emma and began strolling down the hall toward her room.

Emma turned around and called out to her, "Melanie!" The girl turned abruptly, not expecting her to speak again, "Don't you want them to find Ashton's killer?"

"He's dead. Finding a murderer isn't going to bring him back." The girl turned again and walked away.

Emma stood in the middle of the hallway dumbstruck. She felt a shiver as a drop of water from her hair had slid down her shoulder but she knew that wasn't the only reason why she had felt the sudden chill.

* * *

Brennan was sitting at her desk; nose buried in a file. She didn't need to look up to know that he was standing in the door, she could smell his cologne and she knew the sound of his footsteps after three years of working together, "Did they find out anything about the bugs?" she asked, scanning the file with her pen.

"They aren't done sweeping the entire building yet but there were a few sporadically placed around the building; the heaviest concentration was found in and around my office so far."

She looked up at him with an expression of confusion, "Do they know how long that they have been there?"

"A cleaning crew comes in once every two weeks. As far as we can tell, they weren't there last Friday and the lady who is assigned to my office was checked out. She's clean. They're processing them now to see if they can get anything off of them."

Brennan nodded her head, "So it couldn't be anyone who works outside of the FBI."

Booth dropped his head, "Yeah, it's someone on the inside." He clenched his jaw and looked back up at Brennan.

"I'm sorry, Booth." She said, giving him an empathetic smile, "I know how much you hate this."

Booth nodded his head, "Don't worry, Bones. We'll catch him. We always do."

Brennan looked back down at the mess of paperwork on her desk. She closed the old case report that she had been working on and placed it on the stack of completed paperwork, "Let's go to lunch." She said smiling at him and pushing herself away from the desk. She knew that a piece of pie would cheer him up.

"Don't you have to finish that stuff?" he said gesturing to the desk.

She sneered at the unfinished pile and smiled back at him, "Nah."

* * *

Angela sat in her office on her couch. She was mindlessly rubbing her belly in soothing circles as she sat back on her couch, eyes closed. Hodgins stood at the door, watching her silently.

"What do you want Babe?" Angela said, letting a small smile creep onto her face.

"How did you know I was here?" he said, pushing himself off of the door frame and entering the room. He sat down next to her and replacing her hand with his on her stomach.

"I'm a magician." She said opening one eye to look at him and then repositioning herself to sit closer to him.

"Are you okay?" he asked genuinely.

"Eh. My stomach is hurting a little. I feel like I have heartburn."

"What? When did this start?"

"An hour ago or so." She replied.

"Maybe we should see the doctor, Ange."

Angela rolled her eyes, "I looked it up online already. It's perfectly normal to have heartburn when pregnant, so stop being all… hover-ie."

"I'm just looking out for you, babe."

"I know and that is what you're supposed to do. So, good job," she said patting his leg, "but I'm fine." She ran a hand through his curls and he smiled at her; then got up.

"Just, let me know if it gets worse. We're in this together."

"You better believe it! I am not raising this kid all on my own!" she laughed.

He smiled and then exited her office.

* * *

"Pie?" Booth questioned, handing the menus back to the waitress. It was the same game every time. The waitress would give them both menus, he would then hand them back without either of them taking a glance, and then the inevitable pie question would come. It was monotonous, it was redundant; Brennan loved every repetitive motion of it.

Ever since she had met Emma she had been mulling over the small bits of pleasure in her life. The minute details of everyday that had once gone unnoticed were now extremely prevalent and she was keeping a mental score of how happy or sad these things made her. Finding a piece of concealed or otherwise overlooked evidence: Seven out of ten. Waking up in the middle of the night for no reason: One out of ten. Booth asking her if she wanted pie: Eight out of ten… okay, maybe nine.

She smiled at him and rolled her eyes, "I don't like pie, thank you." She looked at the waitress to confirm that their orders were complete and the waitress walked away.

"You should just give it a chance, Bones." He grinned.

"If I don't like pie, Booth, then I don't like it." She said bringing her coffee cup to her mouth and blowing over the surface of the steaming liquid.

"Yeah, but, you never know what you don't like. Sometimes you have to grow accustomed to things."

She took a sip of her coffee and leaned her head on her other hand, "There is no reason for me to want to grow accustomed to pie."

"It's delicious! That's why!" he said turning his coffee cup in his hand.

"Besides, I don't grow accustomed to many things, if at all."

"That's not true."

"Give me one shred of evidence that proves otherwise." She challenged.

"Me." He said defiantly.

"You?"

"Yes, me. You hated me when we first met, and even after I agreed to let you be my partner, you still didn't like me. Now look at us, Bones!" he said laughing.

She laughed as well, "That is different."

Booth took a sip of his coffee and leered at her, "How is that different?"

"You, Booth are not a slice of pie."

He laughed, "That is debatable."

Brennan's brow furrowed in confusion, "You are not a desert, Booth!"

"Once again, I say that is debatable." He laughed again, knowing that she was missing the joke.

She was starting to get frustrated, "I am… clearly lost."

Booth placed his coffee cup on the table as the waitress brought over their food and began divvying out the plates, "Ask Angela, Bones."

Booth being a secretive jerk: One out of ten.

* * *

Emma made a mental pro and con list in her head about whether or not to tell Booth about what had happened in the hall. She had finally decided to let him know. She dialed the number to his office at the FBI and waited for him to pick up.

There was no answer so she hung up.

She huffed at her own indecisiveness and redialed the number. Again there was no answer.

"You've reached the office of Special Agent Seeley Booth. Leave your name, phone number and information concerning your call and I will call you back shortly."

Emma heard the beep and cleared her throat, "Hey Booth, it's Maggie Fitzgerald." She used her cover name, just to be safe, "Just wanted to let you know that Melanie confronted me today; more like bombarded actually. She… well, she's not happy about being a potential suspect. I'm heading off campus today, so call my cell when you get this. Later, homie."

She hung up and got dressed. At the risk of loosing another day of investigating, she decided not to stick around. Despite all of her training and the fact that she had been in far more dangerous situations, she was scared.

Drug dealers and gang members weren't secretive about their maliciousness and they certainly didn't sneak around when they wanted to kill someone. She knew how to handle herself in those situations. But this, this was something that was new to her. She didn't know how to handle upper middle class crime. Everything about it was hush-hush and you never knew when someone was about to attack. She felt like she was loosing control over the whole thing, and she didn't like it. She was better than this.

Regardless, she needed to get away.

Sweets was sprawled out on his couch, the TV on the SciFi channel watching Eureka reruns. He had gotten a call from the office telling him that he would not be able to work today due to the bug situation in the Hoover building. Apparently they had not gotten to sweep the psych department and they would be working on that today and due to the fact that extremely sensitive material was commonly discussed on that floor, they would have to be extremely diligent in their work.

He leaned up off the couch and grabbed a few cheese puffs and jammed them into his mouth, then taking a sip of soda to let them soften to mush and become easier to swallow and plopped himself back down on the couch.

There was a sharp knocking at his door. He bolted up and ran to the peep hole only to see Emma standing on the other side. His eyes grew wide and he looked around the apartment. He frantically picked up a few stray t-shirts and beer cans and threw them into a closet, then running to the bathroom to rid his mouth of cheese residue and soda gunk and pulling on a pair of jeans before running back to the door and opening it.

Emma was just about to knock again when the door was pulled open. She saw Sweets in normal clothes and slightly out of breath.

"Hey there Sweets." She said, dramatically waving her hand in the air.

"Emma, what are you doing here?" He tried to lean against the door frame, but then realized that he was not cool enough to do that.

"Um… ya know, just… wanted to get off campus for a while. I thought I'd stop by."

Sweets stared at her for a moment, "How did you know where I lived?"

She rolled her eyes and laughed, "FBI… remember?" Sweets smiled and stood there, Emma shifted uncomfortably on her feet, "So, are you going to let me in?"

Sweets jumped back from the door, "Oh, yeah. Sorry, come in." he held it open for her and she walked in slowly, expecting to see a normal 'male' apartment. She was surprised, however, when she noticed that it was extremely clean and decently decorated. She nodded her head at him in approval, obviously studying the pictures on the walls. They were artistic versions of ink blots made specifically for use as decoration rather than psychology. There were a few posters on the walls as well, but they were framed and from unknown sixties and seventies rock bands rather than the intrusive and highly prevalent Metallica posters that her ex-boyfriends all had.

Sweets closed the door and watched her observing the apartment. His mom had helped him decorate, but he decided to keep that to himself so that she wouldn't think he was a momma's boy, "Do you want something to drink?" he asked.

She turned to him and smiled, "Yeah, what do you have?"

"Uh… I have come coke, water, beer…"

"Beer." She said instantly.

"Uh, sure… okay." He nodded his head and made his way to the kitchen to fetch two beers.

"You got a nice place here Lance." She said picking up a picture from the sofa table. It was him and an older woman, whom she could only assume was his mother.

"Thanks!" he yelled from the kitchen, "It's small, I guess. But I live alone and I don't really need much."

She nodded her head, knowing that he couldn't see it, "Yeah, my place is about this size too." She heard two bottle caps snap open and his footsteps leading back toward her.

He outstretched an arm with the beer in it, "Don't you live in the dorms?"

"Currently, yes. But I do have a place of my own when I'm not undercover." She took a sip and then looked at the label on the bottle, "Coors Light!"

"This is my favorite." He said, taking a sip as well, suddenly remembering that he had just brushed his teeth. He winced at the taste, but thankfully Emma hadn't caught it.

"The beer of fisherman and construction workers!" she giggled.

* * *

Booth got back to his office and checked his voicemail. When he heard the message from Emma he became infuriated. Not with her, but with Melanie Roselli. How dare she confront Emma and how dare she become pissed for being a suspect. He pounded the phone back down on its base and began pacing around his office.

After five minutes, he picked up the phone and called Brennan.

"Brennan."

"Bones, I'm going to question Melanie Roselli again."

Brennan could tell that he was angry merely by the tone of his voice, "Uh, okay. Are you going to pick me up?"

"No, you're not coming with me. I don't know what this girl is capable of and I don't want you to get hurt."

"Booth! That is completely ridiculous."

"It very well may be, but you still aren't coming with me. That's final." He said hanging up the phone again.

He grabbed his jacket off of his chair and stormed out of his office.

Brennan sat with the receiver still in her hand. She huffed and put the receiver back down. She stood up from her chair and began pacing around her office, arms crossed and anger clearly filling her thoughts. Occasionally she would make an erratic gesture that only affirmed how pissed off she was.

She grabbed her coat off of her chair and put it on.

"Well, if he's going to investigate without me, then I'll go investigate without him!" she said grabbing her purse and storming out the door.


	10. Chapter 10

**Thanks for being so amazing, guys! I hope you like this chapter. Things are heating up!! haha R&R please!**

* * *

Emma had been at Sweet's apartment for a few hours now. They had played Wii tennis, Wii baseball and were now onto Wii golf. Sweets was feeling more comfortable around her and was attempting to make her laugh before her turns so that he might get the advantage on her.

"Careful Emma, you don't want to make any Wii-stakes."

Emma doubled over laughing, "Why are you turning everything into Wii?"

"Why? Are you Wii-jealous?"

She laughed again and looked at the screen taking another practice shot, "Shut up Lance. If you talk during my turn, I might kill you with my ninja skills." He smiled at her and stayed quiet as situated herself to putt her shot. She swung the remote slowly; the ball rolled on the green and landed with a plop in the whole. She raised her hands in the air victoriously and jumped, "EAGLE!"

The game then responding, "Nice Eagle!"

Sweets laughed at her reaction and stood up to take his turn. Emma threw herself on the couch, grabbing her beer and taking a swig. She looked at the coffee table and noticed the plethora of empty beer bottles scattered over its surface, and she then realized that it was three o'clock, and she was drunk.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Sweets angry yell from going over par and she laughed as he angrily threw his hands on his hips and turned to her. Noticing her laugh, he lightened up a little and threw himself on the couch next to her.

"Sweets?"

"Grayson?"

She let out a small laugh and looked over at him, "I am so wasted."

Sweets laughed, "Me too."

They sat in silence listening to the Wii's music.

* * *

Booth knocked on the door of Melanie Roselli's room impatiently. The door swung open and she stood in front of him. They stared each other down until Booth took his badge off of his belt and flashed it at the girl.

"I'm special agent Seeley Booth with the FBI and I have to ask you a few questions, Melanie."

"No thanks." She said, devoid of emotion.

"Either I ask you some questions, or I take you in for hindering an investigation."

The girl crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame, "Fine, but make it quick."

Booth side stepped the girl and strolled into her dorm room. He knew she hadn't invited him in, but he came in anyways since the opportunity had presented itself. The girl slammed the door shut and leaned against the door defensively. He turned to face her and leaned on a desk on the opposite side of the room, "What was your relationship with Ashton Crimsmore?" he asked, eyeing the girl up.

"We dated, Agent Booth," she said, a smirk playing on the corners of his lips, "But you already knew that, didn't you?" Booth nodded slightly, "Maggie told you about me and Ashton." She said pushing herself off the door and slowly making her way to Booth and cornering him, "Hey, Agent Booth," she said lifting a hand and placing it on his chest and letting it slide up and down, "Isn't dating a possible witness to murder a conflict of interest? Or are you two just doin' the quick n' dirty?"

She was taunting him and he didn't like it. With every movement of her hand he felt dirty, and he felt nervous. But if she wanted to play, then he would play too. He advanced toward her, coming face to face, "How did you do it?" he asked.

She looked up at him with innocent eyes, "Do what, Agent Booth?" a more mischievous smile coming to her face.

"Murder him." He said, inching closer to her.

Her voice became more seductive and looming, "I don't know what you're talking about, Agent Booth." Her smile grew to an expression of lust. She was trying to avoid the subject, thinking that he was the kind of man who was unable to resist a woman's advances. She placed her other hand on his chest as well and began feeling his chest more vigorously. She pouted at him, "I didn't do anything. Don't you believe me?"

Booth looked at the girl and smiled; he was onto her. He gently removed her hands from his chest and pushed her away from him; heading for the door. Turning to her, he straightened out his tie, "I don't use my handcuffs for sex games, and I certainly don't sleep with immature brats who commit murder. I'll be seeing you very soon, sweetheart. Count on it." He opened the door and looked at her one more time and winked at her before exiting the domicile. As he walked away he heard the door swing shut with a slam.

* * *

"One?" the tired girl in the black ensemble asked as Brennan walked inside. Brennan nodded and followed the girl to a table. She observed the setting around her. It looked like any normal restaurant, nothing that particularly screamed "mob cover business" about it. She was sat at a window seat and scanned quickly for something that she would want; settling on the Caesar salad. She wasn't hungry considering she had just eaten with Booth less than two hours ago.

She placed the menu down and took a sip of water casing the area. There were a few overweight men at the bar, some alone, other looking as though they were there on business with a client. She scoffed at the chauvinistic air that surrounded them. Only men thought it was appropriate to take another male client out for a drink in the middle of the day. It's a dated ritual that is built upon the premise of whoever can drink more and pay the bill first is the manliest.

She rolled her eyes and started to study the men and women who were employees. They looked like college age students. None of them appeared to be overly athletic; in fact most of them looked like they didn't take part in sports at all. No graceful dancers, no well toned football players; none of them appeared to excel in athletics.

The waitress came over and took Brennan's order and promptly took away the menu and headed for the kitchen. Maybe this wasn't worth the time. Maybe she should just leave.

She looked back over toward the bar and saw a man looking at her and she froze under his tedious eye.

* * *

Sweets cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. He and Emma had been peering at each other through their peripheral vision for about ten minutes now, completely silent and somewhat uncomfortable with the situation.

"So…" he stated, attempting to start conversation.

"So…" she said, finally turning her head towards his.

He looked at her, and she looked adorable. Her hair was mussed and her eyes were tired. He had no control over himself when he leaned in and kissed her.

It caught her by surprise at first, but couldn't bring herself to pull away. She leaned further towards him, grasping for his lips with hers. The distance between them was still great and the amount of leaning that they had to endure in order to reach each other was hard to maintain while trying to grasp for breath.

Emma moved her body so that she was sitting on her knees, making the distance closer, but not quite close enough. Her abdomen was killing her and she finally had to pull back.

They were both out of breath. Emma turned on the couch again and sat properly. They were unable to look at each other for fear of what the other might say. Suddenly Emma jumped up and ran to the door shouting, "I should go! I had a great time, Lance! I'll see you tomorrow." Before shutting the door tightly behind her.

Sweets buried his head in his hands and shook his head, "You moron! What did you do that for? You just made a fool out of yourself!" he said to himself condescendingly. He looked up and saw her purse still sitting on the couch.

Without hesitation, he grabbed the bag and ran out into the hallway to try and catch her. She was nowhere in sight. He ran for the stairway and ran down as quickly as possible.

* * *

Booth drove back to the Hoover building feeling somewhat pleased with himself. Pissing off a murder suspect was a perk of the job. Making criminals shake in their boots only aided in their potential mistakes and slip ups. If Melanie Roselli was indeed the killer, she was bound to let something slip her attention now knowing that the FBI was keeping tabs on her whereabouts.

He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and called Brennan's office. She didn't answer, so he hung up assuming that she was most likely on the platform examining remains from limbo or something.

He pulled into the parking lot of the Hoover building and made his way upstairs to his office, settling down to do some paper work.

* * *

Brennan finished her meal as quickly as possible, feeling the intense eyes on her the entire time. Before even receiving the bill, she threw fifty dollars on the table and gathered her things to leave. She attempted to not look at the man before leaving, but she subconsciously looked, scolding herself afterwards. He had been leaving money on the bar. He was going to follow her.

She had her gun on her. She nonchalantly put her hand in her purse and gripped the handle just in case. She walked quickly down the street, knowing that her car was a few blocks away because in downtown DC parking was always horrible along the roadside.

Her breathing was becoming inconsistent and her pace was turning into a power walk. She was scared. Booth wasn't with her. She knew better than to go out investigating without Booth, but she was just so angry at him for leaving her out. She felt like an idiot now.

"Hey!" the man yelled from behind her.

She turned back to see him running toward her and she picked up the pace into a run.

"Hey! Slow down!" he said, picking up his speed.

That was an odd choice of words for a potential abductor. Slow down? Why would she slow down for him?

* * *

Sweets scurried down the stairs hoping that he would catch Emma in time. He rounded the corner into the parking lot to see Emma walking quickly away.

"Emma!" he shouted.

She turned to see him with confusion in her eyes. He began to jog toward her when two masked men hopped out of a utility truck and grabbed her. Emma was fighting them, trying to force herself out of their grasp but they were each twice her size.

Sweets began to run towards her, but she was too far away. The two men threw her into the truck and sped off before Sweets could even reach them.

He put his hands on his head began pacing, "What now?"

He grabbed the cell phone out of her bag and called Booth.

"Booth." He said, answering the phone.

"It's Sweets… Emma… she's gone. I don't know what happened." He said quickly and out of breath.

Booth stood up, becoming very concerned, "Sweets, you have to slow down. What happened?"

"Two men came and took her. I don't know where. She's gone now."

Booth put a hand on his head and closed his eyes, "Where are you Sweets?"

"My apartment complex." He responded.

Booth became confused with the statement and then let it go, "I'll be right there."

He hung up the phone, grabbed his coat and rushed out of his office.

* * *

"Doctor Brennan!" the man shouted, "Slow down!"

She slowed down, but took the gun out of her purse and aimed it at the man, who stopped in front of her and put his hands in the air, "What do you want?" she asked.

"I'm a fan. A fan of your books." He said in a deep gravely tone.

Brennan nodded, still out of breath, and still aiming the gun at him.

He continued, "I just wanted an autograph."

She hesitantly put the gun down. He pulled out a pen and a piece of paper from his pocket and she signed it feeling slightly faint from running and slightly stupid for being so scared.

The man looked at the autograph and then back at her with a malicious smile. She stared back at the stocky man, rubbing her thumb over the butt of the gun. He stood in front of her longer than necessary which gave her time to notice the crinkling of his worn out brown leather jacket, sullied white t-shirt; the gold crucifix that was hanging haphazardly from his neck. He may have just been a fan, but the "gut instincts" that she was developing with Booth's help told her otherwise.

"Thanks." He said turning on his heels and walking back toward the restaurant. She waited until he was far enough away to turn around and unlock her car and drive away.


	11. Chapter 11

**Thanks for reviewing everyone! **

**I just want to say that there _was_ going to be a more extensive subplot involving Angela and Hodgins and the whole pregnancy thing which is why that part of the story is somewhat disconnected and odd. I realize that the size of her stomach is varying in large degree from scene to scene, but for the sake of suspension of disbelief, just stick with me. haha **

**If I were to clean up the mess with Ange and Hodgie then it would detract from what I am really trying to do with this story. **

**Sorry for any inconsistancies... I have never been prego and don't plan on it for a very long time. haha**

**I hope you like it! R&R please!!**

* * *

Booth pulled up outside of Lance Sweets apartment complex to find a frail looking man sitting on the curb, head in hands. He jumped out of the SUV quickly, not bothering to properly park the vehicle or turn off the engine.

"Sweets." Booth called, making his way over to the man. Sweet's head popped up, bringing him out of his misery momentarily. When he saw the Agent marching toward him, he picked himself up off of the ground and went to meet him.

"Agent Booth." The two men met in the middle of the parking lot.

Booth looked him over, noticing that he looked rather disheveled and intoxicated, "Uh, what happened?"

Sweets let out a breath and put his hands on his hips, studying the ground as though it might have answers, "Emma came over here today. When she left, she had left her purse," which he gestured to, still sitting on the curb where he had been sitting, "I ran after her and that's when I saw the two men grab her and pull her into some sort of utility truck." He brushed his forehead in frustration and closed his eyes, "I couldn't see the plate because it was so far away and the men were wearing masks…" he trailed off.

"How much have you had to drink, Sweets?" He said, not in a condescending way, but more concerned than anything else.

"Emma and I…" he said shifting weight, "We were drinking together while playing Wii sports." He felt stupid for saying it. The comparison with their day and the events of the evening, it seemed so ridiculous that they had been playing a video game.

Booth nodded, "Why did she leave her purse?" he questioned.

"What?" Sweets asked incredulously. Of all of the things the agent could have been concerned about; her purse was the most relevant to the investigation? Why wasn't he looking for her?

"It just seems strange that a woman would forget her purse of all things…" Booth said somewhat defensively.

Lance turned away from the agent and put a hand over his mouth. He began pacing and closed his eyes before finally turning back to him, giving up his embarrassment to Booth, "I kissed her."

Booth's face fell. He almost felt like calling Emma to gloat about being right, but the realization that she was now missing slapped him in the face.

The agent's phone rang and startled the psychiatrist. Without another word, he opened the phone and accepted the call while maintaining eye contact with Sweets.

"Booth. Yeah…" he said feigning interest in what the other party was saying until, "You have got to be kidding me." His voice raised an octave and his face flushed. He gritted his teeth and placed his free hand on his hip, beginning to pace, "Thanks for letting me know. I'll talk to her. Thanks." He said snipping the phone shut and gripping it tightly in his hand, "Sweets, tell me what kind of car it was again."

His jaw was set and he looked like he wanted to punch something, or someone, so Sweets complied with his request without hesitation, "Black utility truck. That's all I got."

"Are there camera's in this lot?"

"None that I am aware of. Please, Booth, just find out who took her." Booth nodded his head at the young doctor and began walking back to his SUV, "Don't worry Sweets. You'll get her back."

Reluctantly, Sweets turned back to his apartment, grabbing Emma's purse on the way. He felt restless. He wanted to help in some way, but he didn't know how. He found himself wishing he were psychic at this moment so that he would know exactly where she was so that he could go and save her. Unfortunately, the only thing he was able to do at the moment was wait. Wait for her to be found. Wait so that he could apologize for kissing her without her consent.

* * *

Angela wearily walked into Brennan's office, "Hey." She said sounding tired.

"Angela, what are you still doing here? You should be at home, resting." Brennan said looking up from her computer.

"I know, but Jack isn't done working yet, and I don't want to be annoying."

"You're carrying his child. I'm pretty sure that he would understand the importance of you needing rest." Brennan said, looking back at her computer.

"I know. I know." Angela said rubbing her slightly protruding stomach, "It's fine. It's not like I'll be doing anything at home, and this way I can hang out with you for a while!"

"Well then, at least lay down on my couch." Brennan said looking at her friend with a hint of attentiveness to Angela's needs.

"I accept." Angela nodded at her friend and then walked towards the couch and plopping herself down and lying back.

"So, how is the case coming?" Angela inquired, "You and Booth make any headway?"

"I went to the restaurant this afternoon to see if there was anyone there that I would recognize from the cheerleading squad or college at G.W.U., but I came up empty handed."

"Well you don't think that anyone from the squad is really going to put themselves is a vulnerable position like that, do you? They are most likely going to be working under ground. Especially now that they know the F.B.I. is working on Ashton's murder case."

"You're probably right. I don't know what I expected to happen by going there."

"Wait, Bren, did you go by yourself?" Angela said propping herself up on her elbows.

"Yeah." Brennan said shortly.

"Bren, you can't just do that. You should have taken Booth with you."

"He went to see Melanie Roselli without me, Ang." She exclaimed, taking her eyes off of her computer again, "I was… angry at him, so I went by myself."

"I don't like it, sweetie. You need to stop being so defiant. Booth is only looking out for you."

"I don't need him to look out for me. I'm fine on my own."

"No, sweetie, you were fine on your own when you weren't chasing down criminals everyday. Now, you need back up. You need to have someone looking out for you and who you can look out for in return."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore, Angela." Brennan said definitively.

Angela shook her head in disbelief and with a loud thump landed her head petulantly back on the couch.

They didn't speak to each other for nearly a half hour until Brennan heard the unmistakable sound of Booth's angry footsteps leading toward her office. She heard him pass by Hodgins and ask angrily, "Is she in there?"

Hodgins quick reply had confirmed her whereabouts and the steps became louder and paced quicker.

"What the HELL were you thinking?" Booth said angrily stomping into her office.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean." Brennan said evasively, turning to her computer to avoid looking at him.

"You know EXACTLY what I mean, damn it!" he said stopping directly in front of her desk and leaning into her so she had no choice but to look at him, "Why did you go to La Trattoria this afternoon?"

Her eyes widened at this statement. How had he known? "It seemed like a good restaurant. I needed to eat lunch." She said turning to look into his eyes trying to stay calm in his sea of anger. They were staring each other down as though they were challenging each other.

"You know damn well that the La Trattoria establishment is the possible cover business for the Canterelli syndicate. You put yourself and this case in danger by going there."

"I'm not a child, Booth. I don't need your permission to eat lunch."

Booth stepped away from her desk and began pacing the floor in front of her, "Twice in one day?" he paused, staring her down, "You never eat lunch alone, Bones. I practically have to force you out of here on a daily basis and half the time you don't eat anything. So, all of a sudden, you decide to go out and have two lunches in one day, by yourself, and happen upon La Trattoria and decide, 'oh well I haven't put myself in a dangerous situation in a long time, maybe I can have the fettuccini with a side of _torturous death_!'."

Brennan scoffed at his remark, "Clearly I am still alive, Booth! What do you want me to say? That I intentionally went there to find evidence linking the Canterelli's with the G.W. cheerleading squad? Well, I think we both already know the answer to that!" she said flailing her arms in the air.

"Yeah," said momentarily pausing to look at her, and then he resuming his aggravated pacing, "We already know the answer to that." He said kicking the wall, "Why do you always do this? You always say that you don't need anyone to protect you and then you intentionally put yourself into these extremely dangerous situations thinking that just because you are intelligent that no one could_ possibly_ outsmart you. You shouldn't do this to yourself, you should think about the people who care about you, Temperance."

"They will all be fine, because I will be fine, Booth." She was trying to calm him down, but it seemed that her words only got him more riled up.

"NO, Temperance. Emma was abducted today so you don't understand the chaos you cause with your reckless behavior."

"What?" She said shocked, both because of what happened to Emma and his implication that it was all her fault, "You're only pinning this on me because you're pissed off that someone stole your girlfriend." She said standing up from her chair and walking around her desk to meet him.

"GIRLFRIEND! Emma isn't my girlfriend!"

She scoffed at him, "That's right," she said. She didn't hear his response due to the emanating anger that was coursing through her body. She was only hearing what she wanted to hear, "Admit it, Booth. If I weren't around, if I died, it would only be one less _annoyance_ in your life. You always say that you care about me, but it's evident in your actions that you don't. Quite honestly I don't even know why you do." She paused looking at him, "Oh right, you care because without me you have no one to blame her abduction on because you can't blame yourself. A cheerleader with an FBI agent as a boyfriend? Some friggin' cover, you idiot!" she spat at him.

"One less ANNOYANCE? Is that really what you think? I cannot believe you!" he ran his frustrated fingers through his hair, "You want to know why I care? I'll tell you why I care."

"Go ahead!" she said crossing her arms defensively; challenging him to prove that she was anything but an annoyance.

"I care because you could have blown the case. I care because you were putting people's lives in danger; Emma's life in particular. I care because there are more people in this thing than just you, me and Emma. I care because you are my partner, and I wouldn't be able to do my job without you." He stared straight in her eyes as he was shouting at her, "I care because you are not only my partner, but you are my best friend and if I couldn't see your face everyday I would rather not see anything at all. I care because sometimes when I can't smell your perfume I feel like I can't breathe; like I'm suffocating. I care because the sound of your voice invades my dreams every single night. I can just barely make it through the day without touching you, and EVERY SINGLE day it is a challenge not to. I care because I'm so in love with you that I don't think I could live one day without you in this world and your indifference to that only drives me to love you more. THAT is why I care, Temperance!"

Without a second thought, Booth roughly grabbed her shoulders and smashed his lips into hers for a brief and borderline violent kiss. He pulled back and let her go, with the image of anger still spread across his face. He looked around the room only vaguely realizing what he had just said. He pointed his index finger in her face and let out an aggravated breath, "SO THERE!" And then he stormed out of her office.

Angela sat up straight on the couch and looked at Brennan with a giant smile on her face. She looked as though she had been let in on the biggest secret of all time.

"THAT," Angela said, "was HOT!"

Brennan stood in the middle of her office shocked, confused and unable to move.

* * *

Booth was sitting in the driver's seat of his car with the door open. He was leaning out of the car with his hands on his knees, and holding his head. He felt like he was going to vomit. The intense emotions that he had just gone through were enough to feed a small country of emotionally deprived Temperance Brennan's. He was pretty sure that he was going to vomit. His brow was covered in nervous sweats as he contemplated what had just happened. He was scared to death about what this would mean. How could he ever face Bones again? How could he have let himself get so caught up that he could tell her that he loved her? No, he didn't tell her, he screamed it at her; violently. So much for romance, he thought.

He could feel his lungs constricting against him every time the image of her frightened face popped into his head. He felt impossibly guilty about what had happened and he felt as though he couldn't sit still. Every muscle and bone in his body was restless. Every ounce of him was hopped up on adrenaline and he couldn't decide whether it was because he was finally happy about telling her or if it was because he felt like such a supreme asshole for telling her. At that realization, he knew for sure that he was most definitely going to vomit.

He stepped out of the SUV into the Jeffersonian parking lot and began to pace next to his car. Every time a part of the rant popped back into his head he moaned in embarrassment and disgust of himself.

"WHAT the hell is wrong with you, Seeley!" he screamed at himself, kicking the rear tire of his vehicle. He got back into his car, realizing that she might exit the building at some point in the near future, and he sped off hoping that he wouldn't have to see her soon in order to keep some semblance of self respect.

He couldn't focus on himself right now. He had to find Emma, for her sake, for his sake and most definitely for Sweet's sake now. After what had just happened, he couldn't allow another man be deprived of the woman he loved.

* * *

Brennan stood still in the middle of her office dazed and confused as Angela was standing in front of her trying to snap her back into reality. Her eyes were glazed over and her breathing was becoming erratic. Angela was convinced that her friend was having a panic attack.

Angela ran over to the closet and found a brown paper bag from the bagged lunch that Temperance did not eat that day. She hurriedly dumped the contents onto the floor and rushed back to Brennan and held the bag over her mouth. Brennan's breathing began to slow and she managed to take the bag from Angela's hand and continue the treatment on her own. Angela guided her over to one of the chairs and slowly sat her down. Angela sat across from her and waited for Brennan to regain composure.

"Sweetie, are you okay?" Angela said softly.

"I… I…" Brennan mumbled. She couldn't yet form a coherent thought. Angela looked at her and she looked disheveled like she had almost been hit by a train. Angela couldn't help but find the humor in that thought considering her friend had indeed just been hit by a metaphoric train.

"You don't have to talk yet Bren. When you're ready, I'll still be sitting right here."

"Thank you, Angela."

"No problem. Besides, this is like, the best revelation EVER." Angela said excitedly. Brennan looked at her with frightened eyes and her breathing started to become heavier. Angela instantly gave her self a mental kick and jumped up, "Oh, crap! I'm sorry, sweetie." Angela helped her lift the bag back up to her mouth.


	12. Chapter 12

**As always, thanks for the reviews. Happy reading and let me know what you think!**

* * *

Lance Sweets sat on his couch; his television still playing the Wii theme song. It had been hours since Agent Booth had left and he hadn't moved and the darkness of his apartment enveloped him. He thought that if he sat there long enough, he might turn into a piece of furniture and all of his worry and concern would dissipate.

The beer bottles were untouched and his drunken state was now only a memory which forced him to think that he might have hallucinated all of the events of the day. The time he had spent with Emma had been perfect; just amazing, really. All until he had kissed her; that is when things got bad.

He wasn't in love with her; how could anyone fall in love in only a matter of days? It was impossible, improbable and most definitely not rational. He rolled his eyes at himself; he sounded like Doctor Brennan.

Emma's purse was sitting on his kitchen counter, and even though he couldn't see it from where he was sitting, he felt its proximity. Out of respect for her personal belongings, he had put it far away so that he wouldn't be tempted to look through it, but his curiosity had gotten the best of him and he was clutching his hands to the leather of the couch attempting to hold himself back from it.

Maybe its contents could hold some sort of clue into where she had been taken? Maybe she had been taking notes on the case? It was her personal property and it would be wrong to go through it; to take such a liberty. Then again, possession is nine tenths of the law, and if it helped him find her, then in the end it would be worth it.

Finally he lifted his shaking body off the couch and headed into the kitchen to stare at it before deciding that it would be strictly professional to expose the contents of the purse.

His mother had always told him that it was inappropriate to go through a girl's purse, and he had thought throughout most of his childhood that a woman's purse was the source of magical powers far beyond his comprehension. Although he would never admit it now, he still felt that way, the only difference being that now he viewed the purse as a means to destroy and/or fulfill men's desires.

He grabbed the handle and froze. It felt wrong. He released the handle and backed away, putting his hands on his hips in contemplation. He turned in his kitchen, spotting a spatula and grabbed it. He swung the spatula widely out in his arms, knocking the purse onto the floor, spilling the contents of the purse in the process.

"Oops." He simply stated, kneeling next to them and rifling through the mess.

* * *

"Where is Charlie?" Booth demanded entering the sea of desks that sat outside of his office.

A small eager looking young man popped up instantly at the sound of the agent's voice, "He went home for the night. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Booth growled in irritation. Didn't everyone know that the job was never done? Why had Charlie gone home when Emma was missing? He then released a breath he had been holding, realizing that Charlie hadn't known about Emma's abduction because he hadn't told anyone, "Yes. What is your name?" he questioned the young man.

"Agent Dan Simeri." He said, taking a few steps toward the towering man.

Booth nodded and then took out his notepad, writing down the name of Sweet's apartment complex, "Get me any and all camera footage that you can in this complex and in the surrounding area between the hours of three and five o'clock. We are looking for a black unmarked utility truck. Send a copy over to the Jeffersonian as well to Angela Montenegro."

Booth ripped the piece of paper out of the notebook and handed it to the agent and stepped into his office. The young man looked at the piece of paper and followed in after him. When Booth reached his desk, he noticed the man staring between himself and the paper. Booth looked at him questioningly raising an eyebrow, wondering why he was still standing there.

"I'm pretty sure that everyone at the Jeffersonian has gone home for the night, sir."

Booth leaned over his desk in an intimidating manner, "Just do what I ask."

The young man's eyes widened and he swallowed nervously before scurrying out of the office. Booth threw himself into his desk chair and he heard a snapping sound and fell over. When he hit the ground, he groaned loudly. He looked to see that he had dropped down with so much force, the chair broke.

He remained on the floor, unwilling to move. Today had not been his day. Emma was missing, his therapist was in need of therapy, he yelled at the woman that he loved that he loved her and now, on top of everything else, his chair had given up on him as well. He saw no reason to get up. This is where he was destined to lie forever; on the floor of the FBI building.

He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them back up, he saw his partner staring at him. He blinked twice in shock and the fuzzy image of Angela; not Brennan appeared before him.

"You okay, stud?" she laughed.

He looked around him for a moment and then back at her in shock, "Yeah, I think I just hallucinated."

She quirked her eyebrows at him and then grabbed his hand to help him up. He cleared his throat and shook his head to attempt to bring the sinking feeling in his body to cease and desist, but he had no luck; once again.

Angela moved around to the front of his desk and sat lazily in one of his chairs, "So, you've had an eventful day."

He looked up at her and leaned on his desk, "She told you?"

Angela let out a laugh, but at the sight of his glare, she retracted it for a more somber appearance, "Wow, you must have been in 'blind rage' mode because I was in the office when the whole ordeal went down. I was laying on her couch."

He dropped his head and let out an exhausted and embarrassed breath, "Look Ange, I'm sorry you had to see that, but I really, really don't want to talk about this right now."

She laughed again, "I'm not sorry about seeing it," she said playfully, but then her voice became somewhat more serious, "You should know, however that she kinda had a panic attack after you left."

His head thrust upwards to meet her eyes, "Oh my God. Is she okay?"

"She's fine." She said quickly, "Nothing a little alcohol and sleep can't fix." She leaned forward in her chair, studying Booth's expressions go from worry to concern to relief and then finally to guilt, "So when did you have your epiphany?"

Booth shook his head and dropped his eyes away from hers, "There was no epiphany, Angela."

She leaned back into the chair again and brought a hand subconsciously to her stomach, "So, what? You realized you loved her after you yelled it at her?" she said smiling playfully.

"No," he said softly, "I've always been in love with her, Ange. I just… I never told her because she could never feel that way about me; especially when we work so closely together. She knows about the some of the things that I have done; things I'm not proud of." He stood up straight and began pacing the floor, "She deserves better; she's a better person than me."

Angela's hand flew to her mouth and tears came to her eyes. She wasn't sure if it was the hormones that were making her so emotional over what he said or if what he said was truly that sad, but regardless, she instantly knew that not only was he good enough for her, he was quite possibly the best thing that had ever happened to her.

"Booth," she said desperately trying to hold back tears, "She is a better person _because_ of you."

* * *

Brennan stumbled into her dark apartment. Her chest was still tight from the earlier encounter with her partner. She could barely think about what happened, but that was the only thought on her mind; the tirade replaying itself non-stop. Her eyes were both wet and dry at the same time from tears and stress; her breaths short and erratic as though he had just been standing in front of her moments ago even though it had been almost two hours ago. Her body was week and she couldn't focus; just his face in her head; his angry expression and the feel on his lips gripping to hers.

She dropped her keys and her purse on the floor with a crash and she pawed for the door until it was shut and locked. She slowly made her way to her bedroom, wearily stripping herself of all of her clothes the way a drunken woman would after a long night at the bar. She left her jacket and shirt on the floor of the hallway, her right shoe next to the door, the left in front of her bed and her skirt was kicked off and flung across the room when she dropped her tense frame onto the bed.

Her eyelids closed immediately under their own weight and she let out a long drawn out, whimpering sigh, relieved to be in the safety of these confines. She wanted to cry and laugh and smack herself for behaving so irrationally. She didn't know what to feel, how to feel it or even if she wanted to feel; but she knew that this day had caused a major rift in her life. But weather that rift was a good thing or a bad thing was beyond her at this moment. But she knew one thing without a doubt; she would not be getting much sleep tonight.

* * *

She was cold; extremely cold. Her eyes fluttered open weakly to find herself leaning against a pole. She tried to move her arms but found that she was unable to both because of the weakness of her own body and the constriction of the restraint. The tapping metal to metal indicated that she had been chained up and the dizziness that was coming to her now told her that she had been heavily drugged; and most likely the alcohol that she had consumed earlier hadn't helped.

The day was fuzzy in her memory and her head was pounding making thought difficult, but she remembered a few details. Her right arm hurt which she could only identify as "Wii arm" after having played the video game with Lance for several hours. She could also remember being at the dorms, but anything in between those two events evaded her. How had she been abducted? Where was she now? She had a vague flashback to a really bad one night stand from her college years, but a small smile came to her lips thinking that Lance was most likely not this kinky.

She rolled her eyes at herself and her hopeless crush on the doctor, knowing that he didn't return her feelings. She couldn't remember why she had left his apartment, only that she remembered being nervous and she had prompted herself to leave, but the motivation behind her hasty exit was something she couldn't place. This whole amnesia thing was beginning to piss her off; especially since she didn't know how long she had been here.

She began reciting facts in her head to trigger her memories; any memories that she may have lost. Emma… Emma Grayson. FBI Agent Emma Grayson; badge number 44309. Organized crime. Brother Randy; three years older. Father George, mother Karen. Born March 1st 1985.

She shivered hearing a footstep behind her. Her breath hitched as she felt the hot sticky breath against her head. The man rounded her, coming face to face with her. She had seen him before, but she couldn't remember where.

"Hey there, Maggie." He said in a sickeningly sweet voice. She stared back at him, lips pursed. Although she had been incapacitated by drugs, she reminded herself that she was still and FBI Agent and she was not easily intimidated, "You looked a little warm while you were unconscious, so I turned down the temperature in the freezer so you would feel better." He said, toying with her, "So, what? You two timin' you're FBI boyfriend? Women! You're all the same. I told you to get rid of him, but instead, you pick up another one. Lance Sweets who also works for the FBI." He scoffed, "You an undercover agent or somethin'?"

Emma stared straight ahead, not saying anything. She didn't know if she was capable of speaking but she wasn't going to say anything to the fowl breathed man. He shifted his position so that he was staring at her eye to eye and that is when the revelation came to her. This man was the same man who had tripped her in the hallway at the athletics center. Same brown leather jacket and same crucifix swinging loosely around his neck.

"Nah, you can't be undercover. No agent at the bureau I ever seen can move like you. I watched you, ya know. At the games, your hips swaying, high kicks. Jumping up and down; rah rah!" he mocked, "Ya know," he said bringing a hand up to her face and trailing his index finger along the side of her check, before she could stop herself, he body reacted to his touch with a semi-violent jerk to keep his hands off of her, "If I got time, I might have a little fun with you."

Numerous thoughts were filtering themselves through her mind, like how had he known Sweet's name and that he worked for the FBI? How had he known that she hadn't "broken up" with Booth? Who was he anyway and why had he taken such an interest in her?

She couldn't think of anyway of getting out of this situation with him hovering over her and she certainly didn't want to become the victim of a murder. But, she reluctantly thought to herself, her hubris in this undercover investigation may have been her tragic flaw; and Shakespeare's flawed characters always met their untimely death. If, of course, it is the writer's will.

**Quick side note: I've been told previously that Brennan's reaction in this chapter may be somewhat over dramatized. As far as that goes: I can't possibly see any human being reacting any differently. I don't care how strong a person is or how many walls they've built up; when something shakes you to the core, no reaction is too big. Honestly, her best friend and one of the very few people in her life blew up her world; how would you react? **


	13. Chapter 13

**Heideho neighbor!**

**Here is the next chapter. Things are about to become crazy and ridiculous, but I hope you're locked in, because... well, we're the center... and the... ugh, I can't even keep a straight face for that one. hahaha**

**Enjoy! R&R please. **

**-Samuel Beckett's g/f**

* * *

Objects; nonsensical items that meant something to one individual but not necessarily to another were scattered across the floor. There was one knock off coach purse, a wallet with assorted credit cards and pictures, a small notebook, a tube of lipcious lip gloss; flavor cherry, a pack of mint gum, a cell phone and a few assorted bobby pins and crumpled gum wrappers.

Lance Sweets sat Indian style on his kitchen floor amongst the personal effects of one Maggie Fitzgerald a.k.a. Emma Grayson. He pleaded with himself do work out some kind of answer; to make the puzzle pieces fit so that he would be able to find her; be the hero of her story, but there was nothing to go on.

Flipping open the palm sized notebook he studied the scrawl that worked it's way across the page. It was in code. This wasn't standard FBI code, this was a personal code which he couldn't decipher and perhaps it was just doodling. He flipped it shut and took the set of keys into his hand, looking over the memorabilia key chains that took up most of the space on the ring. There was a surf board with 'Atlantic City' written across it, a picture of a Yorkshire terrier, a few supermarket key cards, nothing that would help him. He dropped the keys on the floor and dropped his head into his hands.

In all of the years that he had been working at the FBI, he had never become invested in a case this much. He had never even really truly had a relationship with any of the Agents; most of them believed that he was too young to be working at the bureau despite the fact that he actually had better qualifications than his superiors.

He scooped the objects back into the purse and zipped it shut, leaving it on the counter where it had once lain. He couldn't do anything tonight, it was too late and Booth was doing the best he could. He walked into the living room, finally shutting off the Wii and headed to bed for the night.

* * *

Angela was sitting in the king sized bed in her maternity night gown with her laptop on her lap. This was an amusing picture to Hodgins as he leaned against the doorframe watching his beautiful wife attempting to type but having difficulty due to the baby bulge. He pushed himself off of the doorframe, dressed in only pajama bottoms and walked into the room.

"What are you doing?" he asked sliding next to her on the bed.

She looked up at him and kissed him on the cheek before returning back to her project, "Booth gave me the footage from Sweet's apartment complex and the surrounding areas. I'm looking for an image of the black utility truck so that I can try and get a plate number or an ID."

Hodgins nodded and scooted over next to her to try and help, "So, How's Doctor Brennan doing?"

Angela rolled her eyes, "She's freaked out, but by tomorrow she'll be pretending that this day never happened."

Hodgins laughed, "Good ol' Doctor B. Avoid and conquer."

Angela tried to suppress her laughter, "I really feel for her though…"

Hodgins looked up at her, "Yeah, I know. But she should be, I don't know… happy? Relieved?"

"No. That isn't how life works though, maybe in fairytales. But Bren, she's been through so much in her life, and whether or not she returns his feelings, him falling in love with her is almost a betrayal."

"What? How can you of all people say that?" he said lifting himself up.

"Look, everyone who has ever claimed to love her has left. It's only normal for her to think that he is going to leave her now, especially after the way they left things in that office."

Hodgins shook his head in disbelief, "That may be the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard, but it makes sense in a really messed up Temperance Brennan way, I guess." He said, dropping himself back down on the mattress and turning his attention back to the computer screen, "Wait! Stop, go back."

Angela paused the footage and rewound until the black utility vehicle rolled into view. She leaned toward the screen, examining it closely, "Oh my God."

"Is that who I think it is?" Hodgins said leaning in closer.

Angela zoomed in on the footage and her eyes widened looking over at Hodgins, "Get Booth on the phone."

* * *

Brennan was laying on her bed overtop of her comforter staring at the ceiling. She was feeling better now and couldn't rid herself of the embarrassment of reacting the way she had earlier in the day. She knew that Booth loved her, so why did him voicing his concern make her so uneasy? He didn't mean it in the romantic sense, right? She flopped herself onto her stomach with great force, landing on her right arm. She sat up on her knees and gripped her arms carefully letting out a cry of pain.

Of course she had to hurt herself, on top of everything else she was dealing with. It was bad enough that she had defied her friend, pissed him off to the point of blind rage, acted like a fool in front of Angela and made a mockery of herself as well, but now she had gone and sprained her wrist due to her own stupidity.

"Crap!" she said out loud massaging the area. She stood on her bed and stepped off of it, making her way to the medicine cabinet to take some Tylenol for the pain.

Her phone began to shrill from her bedroom and she quickly tossed the pills to the back of her throat and swallowed leaving a nauseating trail of flavor down the back of her tongue. She swallowed again attempting to rid her mouth of it and grabbed her phone with her good hand, "Brennan"

"It's Booth." He said shortly.

"Hey…I wasn't expecting…"

"I need you at the FBI. We have a lead on Emma's disappearance."

Brennan paused, "Oh, okay. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

Booth hung up without another word. She looked down at her cell phone after the click and confirmed that the call had been ended. She reluctantly flipped the phone shut and dressed.


	14. Chapter 14

**Woh woh woh... sadness ensues in this chapter for some of you who have a certain affection for one of the characters in Bones. Alas, what can you do? **

**R&R!**

* * *

Brennan walked into the Hoover building alone. The squeaking of her shoes on the marble floor startled her. It had been a long time since she had entered this building alone, much less wearing sneakers. She nodded to the security guard who was occupied reading a day old newspaper and she could feel her anxiety growing as she pushed the elevator button marked seven and the doors trapped her inside.

She cleared her throat nervously and clasped her hands in front of her, unsure of what to do with them. The doors opened and she took a steady breath willing her overly anxious nerves to settle and stepped out of the elevator and turned toward the hallway that led to his office. She reached the door to find it empty.

She let out a sigh of relief, knowing that his lack of presence meant a few more moments of not having to face him. She turned to walk towards the break room and found him walking towards her with to cups of coffee in hand. He brushed past her, leaving her with one of the cups and walked into his office and sat down behind his desk in a metal chair rather than the nice leather one that he used to have. She followed him inside and awkwardly sat in front of his desk waiting for him to speak.

The silence was palpable and he was refusing to look at her. She felt strange in this office, as though she didn't belong. She felt like she was just another witness or guest rather than his partner and she didn't like it. She belonged here just as much as he did. She was his partner and she belonged here, next to him; fighting crime. Besides, he was the one who called her at two o'clock in the morning to meet him here and now he had the audacity to ignore her presence?

She loudly placed her coffee cup on the mahogany desk and sat back in her chair. He looked up, startled at the sound of the ceramic hitting the desk. His eyes quickly glanced up at her peeved expression and held there momentarily before looking back down at the paperwork in his hands.

"Give me one second, Bones." He mumbled, trying to catch his breath.

She crossed her arms and glanced out the window onto the scenery of D.C. How could anything look so peaceful when there was silent chaos occurring in this office?

"Are you going to tell me why you woke me up at two in the morning?" she asked, her voice tight and cold.

He cleared his throat and picked up a pen from his desk, pretending to write something down, "Yeah, um, Angela sent over a picture from the footage."

"What footage, Booth?" she asked, sounding somewhat annoyed that he hadn't told her about it sooner.

"Oh," he said looking up, but not meeting her eyes, "I had an agent retrieve footage from around Sweet's apartment building to see if we could get a plate number or something off of the van that had taken Emma."

She nodded her head and bit her lip, "Okay, so?"

He took a piece of paper from the file and handed it across the desk to her. She grasped the paper, attempting to meet his eyes in the process but was unsuccessful. She looked down at the image and drew in a sharp breath, "Is that…?"

Booth nodded his head, "Yeah, it is."

"Well, now we know who planted the bugs."

"He's on his way in right now." He said leaning back in his chair.

"What are you going to tell him?" she asked, finally able to make eye contact.

She became overwhelmed with concern; he was a wreck. His hair was mussed, he had bags under his eyes and there was a tepidness that was lurking behind his strong façade that she had never seen before. It made her nervous.

* * *

Emma was wriggling against the chains in attempt to free herself. She had tried to stand but the pressure of the chains around her torso was too tight; she couldn't break the chain because she wasn't iron woman and she couldn't loosen their hold because they were most likely locked together.

Her next attempt, and the most logical; which she had only just realized and now felt stupid for not trying first, was to attempt to lie down and slide herself out from underneath the chains. Her body was already in pain from the other attempts, but a little bit of pain in order to get free was little to ask in this situation.

She scooted herself down and wriggled her shoulders attempting to release herself one chain at a time. The first one popped over her bust quickly, the next just as easily. Her hopes were rising dramatically as the chains began to drag across her face.

* * *

He couldn't do it anymore. He had tossed and turned in his bed for an hour and finally came to the conclusion that sleep was no longer an option. He threw his covers off of himself and slammed his feet to the floor, holding his head in his hands at the edge of the bed.

He needed to get out; not be in this stupid apartment anymore with the stupid Wii theme song replaying itself in his head. It was intolerable and because of this day he may have to throw out his gaming system and never play it again because he had played it with her. From now on, if he couldn't play the Wii with Emma he didn't want to play the Wii with anyone.

He lifted himself wearily off of his bed and dressed. There was only one place that he could be happy right now and that was where he was going. Upon deciding, he was struck by the humor of his situation. He no longer questioned what Doctor Brennan had gone through when she had thought that Agent Booth was dead; rather than empathize and analyze her he was finally able to sympathize with her.

* * *

"Agent Booth?" Charlie said rubbing his eyes and entering the office.

Brennan turned in her chair and stared at the overweight agent whose button down shirt was askew and dress pants wrinkled. His eyes were sunken in and hair tousled on the top of his head.

"Charlie, hey!" Booth said in a slightly over anxious tone.

"What is going on?" Charlie asked stepping toward his desk.

"Hey, there is a possible suspect in the interrogation room for the Crimsmore case. Would you mind taking it into him?" Booth said pointing at a bottle of water sitting on the edge of his desk.

"Sure… uh, is that why you called me in here at," Charlie said, peering at his watch, "Three in the morning?"

Booth looked up at him and smiled, "Oh, no. I have some other things that I need you to do for me."

Charlie nodded his head and reached toward the bottle of water and then retreated his hand back, "Wait, is this going to be used for finger printing or anything?"

"No, the guy is just thirsty. You can grab it." Booth said gesturing toward the bottle again.

Charlie grabbed the bottle and walked out of the office. Brennan looked at Booth who was still watching the Agent walk away before nodding to her. They both got up from their seats and followed behind him.

The door swung closed to the interrogation room and Booth and Brennan quickly opened it. Charlie was standing in the room, water bottle in hand. He looked up at the two of them in shock.

There was no suspect in the room, just him.

"We know what you did, Charlie." Booth said calmly, with a hint of disappointment.

Charlie's eyes widened and he backed himself into the corner, "You can't prove anything. And I'm certainly not giving you this water bottle to test any prints."

Booth shook his head in disbelief, "Charlie, we don't need that water bottle, you were printed when you came into the FBI."

Charlie's head dropped, "I didn't do anything."

"You planted the bugs in the FBI and you partook in the kidnapping of an FBI Agent." Brennan said quickly.

"FBI Agent?" Charlie said, his head popping up quickly.

Booth's head dropped this time and he looked over at Brennan who looked as though she had just put her foot in her mouth.

"That Cheerleader girl was an FBI Agent?" Charlie asked.

"Where is she, Charlie?" Booth asked.

"I don't know." He said unconvincingly.

"Look Charlie," Booth said, taking a step toward him, "You've already confessed to kidnapping her. You know as well as I do that at this point in the game, you might as well fess up. They'll take it easier on you for giving people up."

"But I didn't confess to anything!" He said frantically.

"Um, yeah you did. We never told you that she was working as a Cheerleader."

Charlie's head dropped again, "You see! This is why I did it. I'm no good at being an agent and now I'm no good at being a criminal!"

"What are you talking about? They don't just let anyone become an Agent, Charlie. You wouldn't be here if you couldn't do it!"

"I'm not like you," Charlie yelled, "You're the best Agent in this place and after working under you I know very well what it takes to be an agent. I don't have it. I'm scared of my own gun, for cryin' out loud!"

"Tell me where she is, Charlie. Do one good thing, right now."

Charlie shook his head wadding in his insecurity and self doubt, "She's at the restaurant, La Trattoria. They put her in the freezer."

Booth nodded and removed his cuffs from his belt and cuffed Charlie. He took him out into the hallway where they were met by a uniformed officer and Cullen who had come out of the dark room.

"Nice work, Agent Booth." Cullen said, shaking Booth's hand.

Booth shook his head, "It doesn't feel that way."

Brennan followed behind Booth all the way back to his office where they found Sweets waiting for them.

"Have you found anything? Where is she? Is she okay? Did they kill her?" He said quickly and almost incomprehensibly.

"Sweets, slow down. We're going to get her right now. You can come." Booth said grabbing his jacket off of the back of the metal chair.


	15. Chapter 15

**NEW CHAPTER!! Now I hope when I get home from work today, I have an inbox full of reviews. That would make my tired, worn out, 23 year old work-hating self super happy. **

**BTW, if any of you work in theatre in a metropolitain area... I'm looking for a new job. Save me from my hell. Please? haha**

* * *

After an immense amount of pain, scratches and pinched skin irritation from the chains and the minor cuts and bruises from being abducted, she was finally able to set herself free from the constriction of the chains. She had been in so much pain from it all that it was only now that she realized how cold she was. She used the pole that she was sitting up against to hoist herself onto her feet, regaining her balance and the feeling in her legs. She physically felt her blood pulsating through her body and prayed to God that she didn't come face to face with her captor before her body was ready for that fight.

She grabbed her right ankle from behind her back and stretched her leg muscles and repeated the action with the other leg. She was preparing herself for an altercation which she knew would be the only way that she would be able to get out of here alive; if that chance even existed of course.

She had no idea where she was and no clue how many people were on the other side of the freezer door and even though she was frightened, she was not going to give up without a fight. She wouldn't let herself face death unless she let her murder walk away with at least a few broken bones. She heard the footsteps coming her way and she took her position against the wall out of the eye line of anyone coming her way.

* * *

Aside from Booth having called for back up, the car ride was silent thus far and it was clear that something heavy was looming overhead, although Lance Sweets thought it was the impending retrieval of Emma; Brennan wasn't quite sure.

She glanced over at her partner seeing his jaw firmly set in place and his eyes held steady on the road as if forced into that position. She sucked in a large breath and glanced back at Sweets whose head was resting in his hands fiercely running his fingers through the hair at the front of his scalp and finally coming to a position in front of his chin that resembled prayer.

She turned back around and gazed out the passenger side window. This was awkward. She felt somewhat out of place in this whole mess. She didn't really know Emma, and to be quite honest had disliked her in some respect; even though she couldn't figure out exactly why that was. Now, she felt guilty for having disliked her without giving her a chance. It was all very confusing to her. Brennan was not the kind of person to make rash decisions about people after only knowing them for a few hours, but she had judged Emma right off the bat; and she had done the same to Booth when they had first met. She shook her head at herself and sighed.

"What's wrong, Bones?" Booth said gruffly. He hadn't wanted to talk to her just yet about anything other than the case, but he slipped. It was his guttural reaction to help her and to be concerned. The words had slipped out before he had even had time to stop them.

She shook her head again and looked at him, "Nothing is wrong, Booth."

He finally glanced over at her and met her eyes, "Okay…" he said softly and drew his eyes back to the road.

The car slowed and they pulled up in front of La Trattoria. They all gunned out of the car and walked up to the main entrance where they came face with a large man. He was extremely tall and had bulging muscles. When they reached him he put his hand up to stop them and looked down upon Agent Booth.

"The restaurant is closed today."

Booth cleared his throat nervously, "Sir, I have to get in there now."

The man took a step toward Booth, "I said the restaurant is closed."

The door to the freezer opened loudly with a squeak. Her breath hitched in the anticipation. The man who she had spoken to before entered the freezer and took two steps in. His eyes widened when he noticed she had gotten free. He turned to run out but his face met her foot. He stumbled back tripping over a crate of fish and fell. He was disoriented, shocked and pissed off. He started to get up but her hand grasped around his throat keeping him pinned.

"For future reference, cheerleaders only like to be tied up in bedrooms." And with that, she punched him square in the jaw and disappeared from his sight.

Booth and the man were staring each other down. Booth was attempting to formulate some sort of comeback, some sort of reason why he should be allowed into the restaurant. He finally thought to himself '_screw it'_ and pulled his gun on the man.

"Step aside, sir." Booth said calmly.

The man took a small step to the side allowing just enough room for them to enter. Sweets ran around the man and entered the restaurant. It was empty except for one small table near the back that was surrounded by a group of men. The cloud smoke from cigars was lifting off of the table and the men's eyes turned to look at the young doctor. Booth and Brennan ran in behind him stopping to see the group lifting themselves on their feet. Booth held up his gun at the men, "Nobody move, FBI."

The men sneered at the unimpressive threesome and slowly stepped in front of the table, crossing their arms or hiking back their suit jackets to reveal their weapons. Although Booth didn't physically show it, he was scared at this point. One gun against several guns was not something that he could handle.

Brennan leaned over and whispered, "I know this isn't the best time, but _now _do you see why I need a gun?"

Booth growled in response.

Just then, the kitchen door was kicked open.

* * *

Emma stepped out of the freezer quickly, inviting the thick warm air over her body. She turned back to close the freezer door closing and locking it; trapping the man inside the way he had trapped her. The kitchen was a maze of tables and burners; she started walking trying to find a door other than the one that led into the restaurant. She started to become slightly panicked but quickly pushed those feelings aside. She had nowhere to turn. She face the shiny leather padded swinging doors and took a deep breath and ran toward them hoping that she might be able to run fast enough to avoid any potential gunshot wounds or blows to the head.

She burst through the kitchen door quickly intending to keep running but when she saw Booth, Brennan and Sweets in the doorway she stopped; six against three, only one of the three whom was armed.

All of the men's eyes turned to her and immediately went for their guns. Emma ducked behind the bar just as the first bullet grazed the counter top. Booth, Brennan and Sweets lunged behind the bar as well, Sweets pulling Emma to him and hugging her, "I'm so glad you're okay." She hugged him back, "You're freezing." He said rubbing her arms with his hands.

The shots were still ringing out and they could feel the group coming closer to them. Booth took off his suit jacket and handed it to Sweets to help Emma put on.

"Booth?" Brennan said grabbing his shirt sleeve. He looked over at her with confidence. She was scared, he could see that much in her eyes.

"It's going to be okay, Bones." He said comfortingly, "The back up should be here soon."

"What if soon isn't soon enough?" She said, her eyes pleading with him.

"Then I don't regret it." He said, momentarily dropping his façade.

She looked in his eyes and her brow furrowed, "Regret what, Booth?"

As if sent by divine intervention… or the devil himself, the SWAT team kicked the entrance to the restaurant open and swarmed it disarming the band of men and putting them in cuffs. Emma let herself collapse against the bar, still holding onto Sweets. Booth and Brennan continued to look at one another both trying to muster the words that would seemingly never come.


	16. Chapter 16

**Danka for the reviews. I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

"Are we going to talk about this?" Brennan said, leaning slightly away from him onto the door.

Booth glanced over at her and then back to the road; his fingers shifting on the steering wheel, "It's almost six in the morning…" he said.

Brennan was unsure whether he was choosing to ignore her question or if he didn't hear her so she repeated, "Are we going to talk about this?" she said with more conviction in her voice.

Booth cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "I think I have already said enough, Bones."

"Why are you acting so aloof?" she scolded, "One minute you're telling me that you're in love with me and the next you're acting as though I am…" she trailed off, unable to think of the proper term to deem herself with.

"You're what?" he said. He wanted to sound calm, but ended up sounding cold.

"You… you just seem indifferent."

"I'm not indifferent. I'm embarrassed." He said, looking over at her to gauge her reaction. She was already looking at him and their eyes met. He felt a sudden fear overwhelm him so he looked back to the road.

She sighed and looked out her passenger side window, "You shouldn't feel embarrassed." She stated in a tone that resembled a whisper.

He looked over at her, but couldn't find any words to say.

* * *

"You should lie down." Sweets said walking into his apartment, tossing his coat onto the couch. Emma trailed behind him, still shivering from both the cold and the latent fear that had yet to cease coursing through her veins.

She crossed her arms over her chest and held herself. Sweets closed the door behind her, not taking his eyes off of her small frame. He was racked with guilt, anger, but mostly concern for her well being; both physical and emotional.

The EMT's had given her a once over and said that she was in no serious physical danger and that she needn't go to the hospital, but her body temperature was still low.

She stood in the middle of the living room, beer bottles still scattered around the room from their Wii-ventures the night before and the morning sun was filtering it's way through the blinds.

Sweets put an arm on her shoulder and leaned into her, "I'm going to go get you a sweatshirt and pants and then you can sleep in my bed.

"That's not necessary, Lance. I can go home; I'll be fine."

"You're already here."

"I don't want to be…" she began to say, but Sweets cut her off.

"You won't be an imposition." He said smiling at her.

She nodded and he reluctantly withdrew his hand from her shoulder and walked into the bedroom gathering the items that he had promised her. He also tidied up the room quickly and straightened out the bed sheets for her.

He reentered the room and handed her the clothing, directing her to the bedroom so that she could change and sleep. She slowly walked to the bedroom, her joints stiff from the chill. Sweets turned away and rubbed his hands through his hair and stared out of the window.

She turned to thank him; seeing the worry that had been etched across his face. His eyes were bloodshot, black shadows underneath his eyes, his mouth tightly clenched and his hair mussed from the continuous appearance of his fingers. She dropped her head to look at the sweats and gently rubbed her hand over the soft fabric before entering the room, changing and letting sleep consume her.

* * *

Brennan got home and called Cam letting her know that she would be in later that day due to being woken up at two in the morning with a break in the case. She tossed her bag and jacket onto the nearest chair, her bag then falling off with the force of it. She didn't pick it up; she didn't have the energy or the will.

She slowly made her way down the hallway and flopped onto her bed rolling herself, fully clothed, into the sheets and closing her eyes.

* * *

Booth sat downstairs in his car. He looked up at the window of her apartment and sighed. He didn't know how to handle the situation before him. His ego had been slightly bruised and by divulging any more information without some sort of sign that she might return his feelings, his ego would be shattered as well as, and most importantly, his heart. Not to mention what this could do to their work relationship.

He ran his hands over his face and glanced back up at the window exhaling a loud breath. His reverie was interrupted by the shrill of his cell phone.

"Booth."

"Agent Booth, all of the men from the restaurant are in custody and waiting for their lawyers." Said the voice on the other end.

"Thanks Larry. Hey, did you retrieve the guy from the walk in freezer?"

"Yeah, we found him in there after casing the place."

"Emma said that he was the one in charge of watching over her."

"Yeah, she really gave it to him too," The agent laughed, "The guy's face was bloody when we found him and her hand print is bruised across his neck already."

Booth laughed, "She may be little but she is a fighter."

"Those are the best kind of women I always say, like you're doctor Brennan and my wife. They can fight and they're worth fighting for."

Booth smiled, "Yeah, you're right."

"Okay, well, I'll let you know when I hear from their lawyers. It probably won't be until later this afternoon if not, tomorrow. Cullen wants me to tell you to go home for the day until we hear from the lawyers."

"Great. I'll see you later, buddy."

"Later Booth."

Booth flipped his phone shut and looked back up at the ominous window. He finally pulled the door open and stepped out of the car. He dug his hands deep in his pockets and began pacing next to the car again. Then it dawned on him.

Everything came into perspective. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening. He knew what he had to do.

* * *

Emma slowly opened the door and peered out into Sweets' living room. He was outstretched on the couch, hands tucked behind his head. She crept out of the room toward the kitchen and just as she reached the threshold Sweets sat up, "Thirsty?" he said in a slightly groggy and curious tone.

"Yeah, my throat is really dry."

"I'll get you a glass of water." He said popping up from the couch and brushing past her into the kitchen, "Is tap okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine." She said turning from the doorway and making her way to the couch, plopping herself down and leaning her head against the back.

Sweets came out of the kitchen just as fast as he went in and held the water in front of her. She opened her eyes and took the glass. Sweets sat next to her, watching her drink, "How are you feeling."

She had downed the majority of water by then and looked over at him, "I'm okay, just…really tired."

Sweets nodded, taking the glass back from her and going back into the kitchen to get more, "Are you still cold?" he said loudly from the other room.

"Yeah, but the sweats are helping. Thank you."

Sweets entered into the room again and handed the glass off to her, "I'm glad I can help."

She smiled and took a sip, "Really, Lance. Thank you for doing this. It's… it's nice, not to be alone."

He smiled at her, "I'm sorry about what I did last night. I think I may have been a little… forward."

She looked at him, confused about what he was talking about, "What did you do?"

Sweets looked at her curiously, "I… I kissed you."

Her eyes widened. Suddenly the memory came rushing back towards her. The palm of her right hand hit her forehead, "I'm so sorry. The drugs; I forgot."

"It's okay."

She shook her head, "No, it isn't okay. You have no reason to be sorry, Lance."

"But you left so suddenly, I thought…"

"No, you don't understand."

"What is it, then?" he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. She shivered slightly under his touch, "Here." He said pulling a quilt off of the back of the couch and draping it over her.

She smiled at his actions and looked down at the quilt hanging over her legs, "It's…ugh" she pushed some beer bottles away from the side of the table and placed her glass down, turning toward him, "This is going to sound silly."

Sweets smiled at her, "I'm sure it's not going to sound silly. Just tell me."

"That was… technically it was my first kiss." She said, then covering her face with her hands.

"What?" he said. He was shocked. He couldn't comprehend how someone as beautiful as Emma had never kissed anyone before.

"I was an… uber geek in highschool. I was in the drama club and I was socially awkward…" she said removing her head from her hands and trying to avoid his gaze at all costs, "I mean, the only time that I have ever kissed or well… you know, has been on undercover assignments when I was pretending to be someone else. Last night, that was the first time I had ever kissed someone as… well, me."

Sweets shook his head, "I don't understand. You don't have any of the pathology of having been socially awkward in high school. You're really outgoing and funny."

"Yeah, when I went to Quantico, the guys there got me to come out of my shell I guess. They befriended me and made me who I am now, alleviating my pain from the past. I think that is part of the reason I love working for the bureau so much is because of them."

Sweets nodded his head and moved his hand to rest on top of hers, "So that means I was your first kiss."

Emma looked up at him and smiled, "Yeah, it does." She giggled.

Sweets laughed as well, "Awesome. Can I be the second one as well?"


	17. Chapter 17

****

Sorry I didn't update yesterday. I'm trying to hurdle the writers block. I have a few more chapters before you all will be effected by it, but I am slowing the posting process so it doesn't approach as quickly.

Don't worry though. Tonight I will sit myself down in front of my computer and plow right through the drab concrete walls of writers block and all will be well.

Hope you enjoy this.

R&R

* * *

Booth ran up the stairs of the apartment building steps, deciding not to take the elevator because of his adrenaline kick. He marched down the hallway to her door when he reached her floor, occasionally jogging and then talking himself down from his excitement. He vigorously knocked on the door and then rested his hands on his hips and looked down at the ground.

There was no answer. Booth knocked again, more like banged on her door impatiently and waited for a response.

Slowly, Brennan opened the door with a quizzical eye staring at Booth.

"What? I was sleeping. Have you been here this whole time?"

"Yeah." He said brushing past her, inviting himself into her apartment.

"Booth, that was almost an hour ago. You should be sleeping too." She replied, closing the door and turning to him. She let out a yawn, "Is this something to do with the case?"

"No, Temperance. It has nothing to do with the case."

She froze and stiffened when she heard him say her name, "Is something wrong?"

Booth pursed his lips and waved his index finger in the air, "It's not wrong, Bones."

She rolled her eyes at him and started walking toward the kitchen in hopes of getting a cup of coffee for herself. By the way that Booth was acting, she knew that she most likely was not going to be able to get back to bed any time soon, "You're going to have to be more specific than that. Coffee?"

"That would be great, Bones." He said, momentarily coming out of his aggravation for a genuine and sincerely grateful response, then picking it right back up, "I'm not sorry that I said it, Bone's. It's not wrong."

She stepped out of her kitchen, arms crossed and looked at him, "What isn't wrong, Booth. What aren't you sorry for saying?"

"You know what I'm talking about." He retorted.

"You say many things, Booth. I really can't be sure as to which statement in the span of the last three years that we have known each other that you would be referring to."

Booth rolled his eyes, "I'm talking about what I said yesterday. Don't play dumb with me." He said taking a step toward her, "I find it interesting how you continually bring up your high IQ and then play dumb in order to manipulate me into doing something that you want."

"You sound like Sweets." She said raising her eyebrows.

Booth couldn't help but smile slightly, "Low blow, Bones. Low blow."

"I don't know what that means."

Booth huffed, "You were the one who wanted to talk about this, and now that I bring it up, you're avoiding the subject."

"I'm honestly curious, Booth. What are you talking about?"

Booth curled his fists. He was getting extremely frustrated with her. He knew that she knew exactly what he was referring to and she was just egging on his anger so that she wouldn't have to deal with the situation anymore. He now realized that when she had brought it up earlier, she knew that he wasn't ready to talk about it and most likely didn't foresee him getting up the nerve to confront her. She hoped that the situation might blow over and they would never have to face the difficult conversation. If he was really going to do this; if he were really serious about his feelings, he would have to play the game her way, but better, "That I love you. That I'm in love with you, Temperance. That I always have been."

Her eyes widened and she stepped back into the kitchen to gather her thoughts while retrieving two cups from the cabinet and spoons from the drawer, adding sugar to one of the cups and getting the milk out of the refrigerator.

"Did you hear me?" he asked sternly.

"Yes, I heard you." She said, then clearing her throat and turning around to lean on the counter. She was surprised to find him leaning toward her over the island and staring at her, so she folded her arms across her chest and looked down at the floor refusing to meet his eyes, "We have a line, Booth." She stated.

"Screw the line." He said, maintaining his position.

"It was your line, Booth." she said, raising her voice.

"There is no line between us, Bones. There never has been. It doesn't matter whether we're partners or not, I have always taken care of you as the woman I love, not as a partner." She rolled her eyes and finally met his gaze; taken aback by the expression that was settled on her. By the tone of his voice she thought that he might be scowling at her evasive demeanor, but this look was something different than she had ever seen. It was something that she couldn't compare to anyone else because she had never seen anyone else's gaze even remotely resemble it. It was almost a calm and confident, concerned and… she couldn't place it. "I've been in love with you for a very long time. Long before any lines had been established, so in reality I crossed the line before there ever was one, and I don't regret it. Today in the bar, when I said I wouldn't regret it, I was talking about telling you how I felt."

"What makes you so sure that I don't want a line, Booth?" She said, her voice quivering slightly; betraying her statement.

He pushed himself off of the counter and walked around to the other side of it and leaning against the counter across from her, staring her straight in the eyes, "I don't have scientific proof, there is no formula for how I know; no mathematics equation, there are no bones to show the anomaly and I don't have any particulates to match in some stupid database. But I do know, without a single shred of doubt that you love me too."

"No. You're not right." She said pushing herself off of the counter and walking into the living room.

Booth was hot on her heels and grabbed her arm forcefully pushing her up against the wall and leaning on her so that she couldn't move away from him again. She struggled to force him off of her, but he remained firm. He placed a hand over her head to support himself and looked her in the eyes, "Temperance! Stop!" The sound of his voice made her freeze and meet his eyes. She stared at him until he continued, "You cannot get rid of me. No matter how hard you try to piss me off or make me leave you, I'm not going anywhere. You cannot make me leave. Not ever."

"You will." She retorted, "You'll leave like everyone else."

"I am NOT everyone else." He said moving away from her, "I'll let you take as much time as you need to process through this."

She stayed where she was, leaning against the wall, arms still crushed into her body, "You're right, Booth." She said weakly, "You're not like everyone else." He sighed in relief and took a step toward her, but the sound of her voice made him stop short again, "But that doesn't mean that you won't leave me." She stood up straight and walked into the kitchen, "Coffee's ready."

He stood in the living room, staring at the spot that she had just occupied; baffled.


	18. Chapter 18

**Hey all! Thanks for all of the reviews. So, I'm working through the writer's block situation and I just got the next chapter written so I'm hoping that Chapter 20 will come out a little easier for me. **

**Out of curiosity, who had seen the movie 'Rose Red'?? **

* * *

The bed was comfortable and the two occupants inside it fully clothed; laying peacefully in one another's arms. One peacefully dreaming and the other contented to remain watching as the fabric of the garments rhythmically raised and lowered itself with long whispered breaths.

Sweets glanced up at her face taking in her pleasant and almost angelic features as she slept beside him. How had he gotten this lucky? In a lifetime of failed relationships and blow offs from unsatisfied and unwilling partners, how had he come across someone who made him feel so at peace and so frightened all at once?

He had had girlfriends in the past, and there was always a certain ease in the relationships. It was like going through the same motions time after time, relationships always seemed to have a certain monotony to them; similarities from one to the next that he had grown accustomed to. The past weeks of knowing Emma were almost surreal; like a living fairytale.

He couldn't get over it. These things don't happen in real life. They are stories that have their roots in lore and hear say of men's conquests over women; having been over dramatized with magic and romance to promote the sales of their written counterparts to appeal to children. But every time Emma gazed into his eyes, he saw a majestic creature or a princess who is locked away in a tower beyond his reach; it left him feeling like he would be an inadequate knight in shining armor.

Her hair was cascading over the side of his pillow and his arm snaked underneath her head stroking the tendrils. He leaned into her, inhaling her scent before closing his eyes and kissing her on the lips. Emma woke from the sensation and wrapping her hands around the back of his neck pulling him closer to her.

* * *

Booth was disheveled when he walked into the Hoover building. He had had a silent cup of coffee with Brennan and left her apartment shortly after with a feeling of dread which was unavoidable at this stage of the game. He didn't want to be away from her, but he knew that she needed time to sort things out; time alone would do her some good. He had barely managed fifteen minutes of sleep before his phone had begun ringing with news that a lawyer had made his way into the Hoover building to be present for the questioning of one of the men in the bar. While he was relieved to be able to work on the case and possibly close it in the near future, it seemed as though he was off track. His mind was certainly not focused on the case and he felt the strong urge to pass it off to another agent; but he knew that he would never forgive himself for passing the buck and so he dressed quickly and set out for the FBI building; button down shirt un-tucked, hair slightly matted on the right side of his head and large drooping brown eyes glassed over from the lack of sufficient sleep.

He walked into his office completely divulged in his thoughts, missing the greetings from fellow agents and secretaries on his way in. He made his way around his desk and spotted the metal chair that replaced his comfortable swivel chair and growled at its presence in the room. He kicked it, hoping that it would relieve some of his frustrations, but there was no luck. The chair folded in the air and landed against the wall with a banging sound which gained the attention of the scrutinizing eyes of those on the other side of the glass wall, but Booth didn't seem to notice, or care for that matter.

No matter what he did, all of his usual means of releasing his tension; aside from sex, seemed to have not effect. Punching walls, kicking things, intimidating other people who were physically inferior were his coping mechanisms and all of them were failing him.

There was a soft knock on his door and he looked up to see Sam Cullen standing in the doorway with a concerned look on his face, "Agent Booth."

Booth's frame tensed under the watchful eye of his superior, "Yes sir?"

"Is there something wrong?"

"No sir."

"Are you sure? Does it have to do with Doctor Brennan?"

"No sir. I'm just angry about…" Booth searched for an excuse for his behavior, "Agent Grayson having been abducted." He said looking down at his shoes, fidgeting with the metal chair.

Cullen nodded his head, "Well, she's back now and safe. Her abductors are waiting for you in the interrogation room; number one."

Booth looked up at his boss, "Yes sir, I'm on my way in right now."

Cullen started to walk out of the office but turned back abruptly, "Booth?"

"Yes sir?"

"You look like crap."

"I am aware sir."

"Fix yourself up before you go in and question the guy. Oh, and by the way," Booth looked at Cullen quizzically, "You're not as good a liar as you think you are. Don't let the FBI loose one of the best partnerships they ever had and don't settle for anything less than the best; personally and professionally." Cullen nodded his head toward Booth hoping that Booth understood the message that he was conveying.

Booth smiled slightly and Cullen grinned turning out of the Agent's office and heading back toward his own. Booth tucked in his shirt and pressed it flat against his chest, attempting to straighten out the wrinkles it had acquired. He then ran his fingers through his hair and rolled his shoulders to straighten out his sport coat before exiting the office.

On the surface, the Seeley Booth who entered into the Hoover building was not the same Seeley Booth who was now gallantly strolling toward the interrogation rooms. He kept his eyes straight ahead, eyeing the door as though it in itself was a suspect and while his appearance indicated a sense of well being, he knew that inside he was still a wreck.

He had been concentrating so much on his façade that he failed to notice the woman who crossed in his path, face buried in a file. In a quick hard thrust, he walked into her, both of them falling to the floor. The papers from the file floated gracefully through the air as their bodies pummeled to the ground; gravity once again betraying Booth altogether.

"Oh jeez, I'm so sorry, I didn't see you." He apologized rolling off of the woman beneath him.

"Don't you pay attention when you walk?" she said. Her voice was heartbreakingly familiar.

"Bones?" he said, finally turning his head to look at the woman lying next to him on the floor. She turned to him, giving him an accusatory look.

"Where else did you think I was going to be?" she asked sternly.

"The lab, sleeping at your apartment, the diner…"

She rolled her eyes at him, "I got called. I came into question the mob guys with you."

"You don't have to…" he said, being cut off by her.

"No, Booth. Just because you are… we are… we have a… situation." She said, becoming flustered by her own words, she closed her eyes and rolled her head, "I'm still your partner. We're in this together."

Booth nodded, "Um… perhaps we should get up off the floor."

She opened her eyes, noticing Agents stepping around and over them, giving them curious looks as they strode by, "That is an excellent idea."

They both stood up, collecting the scattered pages from the file and Brennan situating them back in order in the manila envelope.

"So, who are we questioning?" Brennan asked.

"Roselli. Melanie's father. I really feel like he has something to do with Ashton's death. Melanie Roselli, she was… well, a pistol."

"I don't know what that means." Brennan said, saying the line as though it were a running joke that was starting to get old.

Booth looked over at her and smiled slightly. She could feel his eyes on her and forced herself to not look over at him as well. She was still uncertain about her prospective relationship to Booth and she didn't want to give him any indicators to think that she may or may not be interested in him as to avoid any awkward feelings later on.

"Shall we?" Booth said.

Brennan nodded and Booth opened the door, holding it open for her to enter first. Brennan stopped short in the doorway and Booth placed his hands on her shoulders and squeezed into the room beside her.

He noticed the look on her face. It was pure, blatant confusion. He leaned into her and whispered into her ear, "What is it, Bones? You okay?"

She looked up at him after observing the man sitting at the metal table beside his lawyer. She whispered back to him, "I saw him at La Trattoria when I went there without you. He practically chased me down for an autograph.

The man at the table smiled knowingly, "It's nice to see you again Doctor Brennan." He chortled, "And you must be the illusive Agent Booth. How's the cheerleader?"

Roselli's lawyer rolled his eyes, "Mr. Roselli, I'm going to have to ask you to keep quiet." Roselli eyed the man and sank back in his chair.

Booth and Brennan took their respective seats across the table from Roselli and his lawyer. Brennan opened the file and glanced over the scrawl that laid on the page. Some of it was Booth's chicken scratch, which only she could decipher out of all of the other employs at the Jeffersonian, and some of it was her own. The handwriting was vastly different and it had always amused her to see that not only were they different people; almost polar opposites, but that it reflected itself in their handwriting as well.

Booth cleared his throat and glanced over at the file before looking up at Mr. Roselli, "Mr. Roselli, what exactly was your relationship to Ashton Crimsmore?"

Roselli chuckled and rolled his eyes, "My daughter's boyfriend? That is why I am here?"

"No," Brennan piped up, "you're here for taking a Federal Agent hostage and suspected involvement in the Canterelli crime syndicate."

Roselli's eyes widened. "That little skank is an FBI Agent?"

"You mean woman?" Brennan said sternly, "That woman is an FBI Agent. I'm sure you wouldn't appreciate anyone calling a female close to you a 'skank'." Roselli cleared his throat, his face flushing with anger at the Doctor.

Booth looked over at Brennan with a smile in his eyes, "Ashton Crimsmore…" he said redirecting the conversation.

"You know, I can understand why you would want a hot piece like the cheerleader," Roselli said to Booth, "but why you would hang around this broad? Unless you're into the whole homely teacher thing…"

Booth stood up and leaned across the table, "Don't talk about my partner like that. Now, tell me about Ashton Crimsmore."

"He was a jerk. Cheated on my baby girl."

"He was murdered by a rare poison that contained the venom of five different large spiders not indigenous to the United States." Brennan stated, looking down at the file again.

"I bet you could get your hands on something like that." Booth said raising his eyebrows at the man.

"I bet I could," he replied, "but I didn't."

"How are you feeling?" Sweets asked in between kisses.

"Much better now." She said, attempting to pull back from him, but his lips continued to follow her. She laughed at him and put her hand on his forehead to push him off of her. He laughed at her insistence and then finally gave into her request.

"I have your purse." He said brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face.

"Great, I need to check my messages." She said, pushing herself into a sitting position and tossing her legs over the side of the bed.

Sweets put a hand on her shoulder and she turned to look at him, "I'll get it. You stay here and lie down."

"I'm not an invalid, Lance. I just chilled out for a few hours." She smiled at her pun.

He laughed and pushed himself off of the bed, running into the next room before she had a chance to complain again. A moment later he entered the room, purse in hand. She grabbed it out of his grasp and unzipped it, noticing that all of her items had been tussled about. It was a relatively small purse and she had a specific order in which things go in and out of her purse for easier access to her personal belongings. She looked up at Sweets and saw the impression of guilt on his face before digging out her phone, calling her voicemail box and entering her password, "It's okay, Lance." She said.

"What is okay?"

"You went trough my purse. I don't mind so stop feeling guilty."

He smiled slightly, "Sorry."

She smiled at him and rolled her eyes, "You're completely ridiculous. I told you it was okay. It was logical to go through my purse in that kind of event."

"Doctor Brennan much?" he laughed.

"That is sooo not even funny." She laughed.


	19. Chapter 19

**Hey there! Here is the writers block chapter I was telling you about. I hope you like it; it sure took a lot to get it out of me. **

**Don't forget to review!! (Yes, I am speaking to those of you who just read! I see you adding my story to your alerts!! haha)**

**Oh! P.S. Check out my little side project called "You can't always get what you want". It's completely B&B fluffernutter. All of you die-hard romantics will druel. I hope... haha**

* * *

Brennan finally arrived home after a very long day with very little sleep. She was exhausted which is why this day was one of the very few in which she left the lab at a decent, more humane time. She plopped her bag, keys and jacket on the chair in the living room and made her way into the kitchen to find something to eat.

Her muscles were tense and her eye lids felt heavy which is why after considering preparing herself a fully cooked and well balanced meal, she decided to eat a few graham crackers and save herself the time and effort that went along with dirty dishes and standing on her feet. She sat herself down on her couch shoving the corner of a graham cracker into her mouth and chewing slowly, her thoughts consuming her.

She couldn't get over Booth. Not in the romantic sense, of course, but they way that he had been acting recently. She felt as though his behavior was somewhat petulant and immature. Booth lived in his emotions constantly just like she had lived in her rationality. Since they've known each other she had learned, although minutely, from him how to open herself up and listen to her heart. She always assumed that he had learned to rationally explore possibilities from her, but in the last few days, she realized that that was not true; he had learned nothing from her.

There was yet another thing that bothered her, something that she had yet to think about and that she felt shameful for finally admitting to herself; she was unsure about how she felt about Booth. She obviously knew that she enjoyed being in his company and that he was indeed one of her best friends, if not the best. She loved the way he smiled at her, the way he always knew how to make her laugh, the way he showed up without calling her whether it be at work or at home and although she would never speak the words out loud to him or anyone else for that matter, she enjoyed the blatant jealously that arose within him every time she had a suitor or potential lover. It gave her a sense of pride and justification every time his eyes darkened at the sight of one of these sordid men or when he would become flustered just by the mere mention of the other man's name; as though she were cheating on him with her own significant other.

She put the graham cracker box down on the table and swiftly rubbed the remaining crumbs off of her hands before fishing a pad and a pen out of her bag. The only rational way to decide how she felt about this situation would be to make a pro and con list. That would be the right thing to do; logical.

* * *

He didn't want to go home just yet, knowing that he would be facing the vacancy of his apartment for yet another night alone. Parker always was able to fill the void in his place, but it was only every once in a while leaving the majority of his days being comforted by the company of his television screaming basketball statistics or replaying the classic movies that Booth always enjoyed like 'Ocean's Eleven' or of course 'The Godfather'.

That was one of the reasons he loved hanging out with Brennan all the time. Aside from being able to spend his nights with a funny, brilliant and beautiful woman, whenever he was with her he was able to forget that anything else existed; including his loneliness. He hadn't dated anyone in over a year and a half which only amplified his lone wolf persona and made him emotionally grasp for something more in his existing relationships; like the dorky kids who he used to pick on for tagging along with him and his jock buddies hoping for a way in.

He drove around the city in a trance. He was driving by second nature, all of his thoughts consumed by Temperance Brennan and his arrogance of late. When he arrived at his destination, he was almost shocked that he had made it there without having gotten into an accident or running a red light. He found himself at the Washington Monument, where he and Brennan had visited occasionally at pivotal points in their partnership. He leaned back in the driver's seat feeling a strange sensation of humility. It seemed it was almost God's will for him to be here right now considering its history to their relationship and the fact that he had driven there subconsciously; it was like God was trying to tell him something.

God's message evaded him.

He got out of the SUV and walked toward the monument to sit. He was sick of thinking about it, but it was also all he could do at this point.

* * *

When she finally finished her Pro and Con list, she realized that her head hurt in the same way it did after a long day of writing for her book. She had five hand-written pages; the con list far surpassing the pros, and she found herself saddened by the logical conclusion that they could never be together. She needed to explain this to Booth. She grabbed her keys and the list and set out for Booth's apartment.

When she arrived, she noted that the lights were off and Booth's car was nowhere in sight. She rubbed her forehead with her hand, trying to clear out the fog in her head from the creation of the list and decided to go for a drive instead. Perhaps she could stop somewhere and revise the list; just to make sure that all of the points were logical and that she hadn't accidentally repeated any, of course.

When she reached her destination, she got out of her car notepad in hand along with a book light because of the darkness that was taking over the sky. She knew that she would probably be out here for a while, and she couldn't very well work if it was pitch black. She crossed her arms tightly around her chest, realizing that it was fall and she had been in such a rush to leave her apartment that she had completely forgotten about her jacket. She walked up the steps and noted that the mall was completely abandoned; that is, all except someone at the top of the steps.

She shivered. She knew the hunched shoulders, the posture and the profile of the person at the top of the steps. It was dark and she could barely see the man, but she knew exactly who it was. She would always be able to recognize the form in front of her.

Her body relaxed slightly, releasing the tension that she was not aware that she was holding. She uncrossed her arms and looked down at the steps as she approached him. She could see his suit jacket neatly placed beside him and a small cup, which she assumed had once held coffee sitting between his legs on the lower step.

"How did you know I was here?" he asked.

"I didn't, actually. I had been looking for you, but I gave up and came here instead."

Booth chuckled, "You know what they say."

Brennan looked around, trying to see the 'they' he was referring to, "No" she said conspicuously, "Are you drunk or under the influence in any manner?"

Booth chuckled again, "No, Bones. It's a saying… that, I guess… leads to another saying."

"That makes no sense, Booth."

"Yeah, you're right."

Brennan sat down next to him and studied his silhouette, "So what do they say?"

"In order to find what you want, you have to stop looking for it."

Brennan nodded, "I don't think that is accurate in a world view, however, in this particular instance it is accurate."

Booth looked up at her for the first time and noticed the pad of paper, "Work?" he said poking the pad.

"No." Brennan said clearing her throat and propping the notepad on her lap, "It's actually something I wanted to show you."

"What is it?"

"It's a pro and con list."

Booth rolled his eyes and landed them on the monument, "You made a pro and con list about my love for you?"

Brennan let out a loud annoyed breath, "Yes. It's logical under the circumstances..." she started, but was cut off by Booth abruptly standing up.

"Love isn't logical, Bones."

"No, love is a chemical reaction." She agreed.

He threw his arms up in the air and turned his back on her, "You are unbelievable." He said under his breath.

She dropped her head toward the pad and turned on the book light, "It seems as though the con list far outweighs the pro."

Booth rolled his head, releasing the kinks in his neck and turned toward her, "Okay," he said in a strangely calm manner, "Well, I'll see you tomorrow, Bones."

He picked up his suit jacket and empty coffee cup and began descending the stairs.

"Booth, wait!" she said dropping the pad on the ground and running after him.

He turned sharply, staring at her form in the darkness, "It's fine, Temperance! We're fine…" he said more intensely than he had originally intended.

"No it isn't, Seeley." She said, emphasizing his name as though it were some kind of curse word.

He growled and threw his suit jacket on the ground, "I can't sit here and listen to you talk about my feelings as minute indicators of some mathematical or scientific equation, Temperance!"

"I'm scared!" she yelled back at him, "Booth, you should know that better than anyone!"

There was a deafening pause. She crossed her arms again, but this time it wasn't because of the cold; it was defensive.

Booth's shoulder and head dropped in defeat. He walked toward her and she instinctively took a step back, but he grabbed her arm lightly and pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her, "I'm sorry, you're right. As always." He laughed. Although he couldn't see her face, he knew she was smiling as well, "Look Bones, it's been a rough couple of days for the both of us. We shouldn't be fighting with each other, about each other…"

She nodded her head and surrendered into his hug, wrapping her arms around his waist. They stood there for a while before letting go of each other and deciding that it would be best if they parted ways and got rest for the night.


	20. Chapter 20

**CHAPTER 20!! WOOO!!**

**Let me know what you think! **

**And if you haven't read it yet, check out my other fics: "You can't always get what you want", the newly completed "Criminal in the Asylum" and "Wizard of Bones". All are super fun and entertaining! **

* * *

Brennan sat in her office reviewing the case file notes of Ashton Crimsmore. It seemed that all of the evidence that they had come upon during the investigation was leading them nowhere. The poison in his system was smuggled into the country and had no indicators that would lead them to a potential purchaser, there were no anomalies on the bones and the rum that he had ingested was a simple, run of the mill brand that could be purchased at nearly every liquor store in the country.

Even Booth was having a tough time with questioning witnesses. Aside from his somewhat supernatural abilities to read people, no one in this investigation was sticking out as the cut and dry killer. Ashton had a lot of enemies and a lot of friends and all of them could be equally innocent or guilty. It appeared at the time that this case was growing cold; and fast.

Booth stopped in for his daily check up on the case. Hodgins had moved on to silt profiles and Angela had been working on her collection of private art even though she was supposed to be making three dimensional renderings for a new exhibit that would be opening in June of the next year on the Aztecs.

Booth stood at the foot of the platform observing the area. It was calm; much like it was when they didn't have any cases to solve. The serene environment only agitated him because it made him feel like whomever it was that killed Ashton was going to slip through his fingers; he couldn't let that stand.

After building up some nerve, he headed toward the office of his partner, hoping that she wouldn't be too affected by their conversation the night before at the monument. If only things could have been easier or if he hadn't opened his gargantuan trap and spewed his slightly disdain filled but predominantly enamored emotions all over her then he wouldn't be feeling so reluctant to see her. On the other hand, if she had just admitted what he already believed was true and just put his vice gripped brain at ease by admitting her feelings for him, they might be a happy couple rather than two individuals caught in a perpetual whirlwind of awkwardness and humiliating agony.

He cautiously stepped foot onto what he now believed was consecrated ground; namely her office carpeting and waited for his deity to notice him.

"What do you want, Booth." She said, with a very slight physical acknowledgment of his presence.

He smiled at the lack of time that it took for her to notice him, "Anything new?"

"I have a headache." She said, "That's new."

He laughed, "I was referring to the case, but if you have a headache, I actually have a packet of Advil if you want it."

"Advil comes in packets?" she said, looking up at him for the first time.

She couldn't help but notice that he looked devilishly handsome. If there was ever a time when Seeley Booth looked more handsome, she might have passed out.

"Yeah, they sell them at convenience stores for when you don't want to buy the whole bottle. I had a headache this morning on my way to work so I bought some." He said taking out the packet and walking toward her desk, tossing the packet in front of her on top of the file that she had placed on her desk.

"Thanks." She said gripping the packet and pulling at it. He noticed she was having trouble opening it and reached to grab it in an effort to aide her. She jerked away and glared at him, "I can do it, Booth." A moment later, she ripped open the plastic packaging, sending the two pills to shoot out onto her desk. She tossed the irritating packaging into the trash can beneath her desk and gathered the pills and tossing them to the back of her throat, "I don't have any definitive proof that he was murdered. There are no restraint fractures as well as torn flesh or wear on the bones that indicate forcible trauma."

"Oh come one, Bones! It isn't logical for someone to buy rare poison from… Indonesia to commit suicide." He said, "There are more efficient ways of killing yourself that don't cause a drainage of your savings account."

"The poison is not specifically from Indonesia." She said seriously. Booth rolled his eyes but she pressed on, "I don't really know what to tell you, Booth. There are no anomalies on the bone, the only particulates on the body that were found to be irregular were tested, and there are no indicators that he was held captive for any amount of time. What we need is witnesses or a suspect to tie to the poison to."

Booth nodded his head and looked down at his feet trying to come up with some sort of answer to all of their questions. When he looked back up at his partner, he noticed that she was leaning forward, trying to look around him toward her door. He looked at her quizzically and turned to inspect what she was looking at. In the door of Brennan's office stood Melanie Roselli, with a far less self centered look about her than she had had the last time Booth met her.

* * *

Lance Sweets sat in his office listening to the two agents drone on about their work in the field together. It's not that he was not interested in their story, but more specifically, their fieldwork was like elementary school recess compared to Agent Booth and Doctor Brennan's adventures.

Although he held up a look of interest, his mind was elsewhere. He had woken up next to Emma Grayson this morning and could probably never wake up as content ever again in his life. For the first time in along time he had contemplated not leaving the bed that day, and now that he was listening to Agent's Martin and Sharp analyzing each other with basic psychological terms one learns in high school, he wished he had.

Lance glanced at his watch and smiled, "Guys, good work today, but I'm afraid that time is up. I'll see you both next week."

The agents looked slightly astonished that the psychiatrist had cut them off, but dutifully nodded their heads and filed out of the office.

Sweets sank down in his chair, tossing his legal pad with drawings of anime characters onto his desk and closed his eyes. It was his lunch hour and he just needed to get out of this sterile environment.

He pushed himself out of his chair and walked out of the office; giving only the slightest nod to his secretary on his way out.

* * *

She was back in this class again; the one with the obnoxiously dry teacher who mumbled out his lectures in a monotone concord that she couldn't quite pay attention to. She thought that if there were ever a time she might consider suicide, this class might bring her to her knees.

Considering the fact that the entirety of the Canterelli syndicate of D.C. was currently being held in custody, she wasn't sure how much longer the bureau would let her continue to study the law at George Washington. It's not that she had actually intended on becoming a lawyer, but she was always aching to learn as much as she could. Being an agent, one only gets to see a certain perspective of the laws; studying the law under close scrutiny as a law student was entirely different; specifically in the areas of historical content of each act, amendment and bill. It was fascinating to her.

She realized that Booth had been wrong. 'Squints' are not just nerdy scientist, because in reality, both he and Emma were squints in their respective fields. Rather than studying human remains, they studied human society and characteristics of truth; and they were damn good at it too. Granted they didn't use fancy terminology, but the essential qualities of a squint was someone who learned by observing, and used the knowledge for betterment.

Emma shook her head; apparently too violently, because she attracted the attention of fellow students in her area. She blushed and looked back down at her animation character that she had been drawing. Booth was an idiot.

She began to feel a vibration and jumped in her seat, again attracting unwanted attention. She quickly stood and ran down the stairs, pulling her phone out of her pocket. Once she was outside of the door she flipped open her phone.

"Crap!" she whispered.

* * *

Booth and Brennan sat on the couch in her office across from Melanie Roselli. She was sitting quietly and avoiding eye contact with them.

"Melanie," Booth started cautiously, "Why did you come to see us?"

Melanie let out an exhausted breath, "Well, you have my father and his friends in custody now, so I have nothing to protect anymore except myself."

Booth nodded his head and looked at Brennan. She was already looking at him which made his heart beat faster. He cleared his throat and looked back at Melanie, "Is this about Ashton?"

"What else would it be about?" she retorted, "No, I just came here for a social call."

Booth growled and stood, "Well if you don't have any information for us than you should probably leave. I don't have time to waste."

Melanie looked up at him completely shocked, "Wha…?"

"Booth," Brennan said in a calming voice, "Let her talk."

Booth rolled his eyes and sat back down next to her, slightly closer than before, unintentionally of course.

Melanie took a deep breath and looked the agent in the eyes, "Sorry. So, Ashton and I had been dating and well, we broke up."

"We already knew that much." Booth said under his breath.

Melanie shifted in her chair, conveying irritation but pressed on regardless, "So, I started dating this other guy…"

"What is his name?" Brennan asked, placing a warning glance over at her partner.

"Scott McVey." Booth jotted the name down on an index card and then returned his glance to the girl in front of him, "He found out that… Ashton had wanted me back and… I don't know exactly what happened, but a few days before Ashton went missing, Scott had told me that he was going to talk to him about it."

Booth nodded, "Were Scott and Ashton friendly?"

"Not really. They knew each other, but I've known Scott since Middle School."

Brennan leaned forward, "Thank you for your time, Melanie."

Melanie nodded and walked out of Brennan's office. Brennan turned to Booth, "That whole thing seemed a little… off."

Booth looked down at the name on his index card and tapped it with his pencil, "I am rubbing off on you, Bones. Something about that was definitely not right."

"Do you know what?"

Booth shook his head and stood up from the couch, "No. The thing is, the last time I went to talk to her she was all about the power play. She tried to seduce me in her dorm room and now she's acting like the meek mouse."

Booth turned to look at her and saw the look of shock across her face, "She tried to seduce you?"

Booth smiled, "Yeah, but don't worry. You're the only one I want." Booth winced as the words came out of his mouth and Brennan's face immediately fell, "I'm sorry, that came out with absolutely no thought behind it."

"It's okay."

* * *

Emma paced the hallway, phone in hand. Her class had gotten out already, but she couldn't bring herself to leave without making this phone call first. Finally she flipped the phone open and dialed the number. She waited a moment and then began speaking, "Hey. We need to talk. Call me as soon as possible."


	21. Chapter 21

**A little fluffy in this one!! Not the kind you want, but trust me, it's going to happen. **

**R&R like always. **

**Thanks for all of the great reviews! Keep it up!**

* * *

Her phone rang just as she shut the door to her private sanctuary. At least that is what it felt like to her. She had just gotten home after a grueling day and all she wanted to do was jump into a hot shower and sleep.

She closed her eyes and leaned up against the wall, the vibration of the ring still vibrating through her coat pocket. She groaned both inwardly and outwardly at the sound and finally resorted to picking it up. She just hoped that it wasn't Booth calling about another body being found or some new evidence coming along. Not that she didn't want to catch the person who killed Ashton, but she just wasn't in the right mindset right now.

"Brennan." She said to the caller.

"Hey Temperance. It's Mike."

She had completely forgotten about the FBI agent that she had promised a date to. Her life had gone somewhat askew after the agent had asked her to go on a date and only know had she remembered the countless messages that she had neglected to check in the past weeks, "Oh, hey." She said half heartedly.

"Yeah, I was just calling because I wanted to know if you would still be interested in going out to dinner with me."

She shook her head and raised her free hand to her forehead. He was a nice guy and deserved at least a chance to have dinner with her despite the fact that she knew Booth would be jealous in a heartbeat. She exhaled loudly without thought.

"It's okay if you don't. I'll understand." He said sounding disappointed.

"No, Mike. I would like very much to have dinner with you." She stated in a clinical sort of way.

"Oh, that's great. When are you free?" he asked.

"How about tomorrow night?"

"That… that sounds great. I'll pick you up at seven?"

Brennan shrugged her shoulders and opened her eyes, "Yes. Seven is good."

"Okay then," he said eagerly, "Seven it is. Have a good night."

"You too."

She hung up the phone and set it down on the kitchen table along with her bag and keys. She really didn't want to go on a date with him, but she figured it would be a good way to test how she felt about relationships at the moment, specifically her relationship with Booth.

* * *

Emma stood in front of his door considering whether or not to knock. It's not that she was afraid of him, but more or less weary of whether to share the news that she had received earlier that day.

She turned away from the door and sat down on the front stoop to think for a moment when she heard the squeak of the door behind her.

"Hey."

She turned abruptly and stared at him for a moment before responding, "Hey."

"Were you planning on knocking or just going to camp out in front of my door all night?" he said, smiling at her.

She stood up and walked in the front door, ducking under his arm. Booth closed the door and joined her in his living room, "So, I take it you need to talk about something."

She nodded and then threw herself down on his leather couch relieving an exhausted breath from her lungs, "Yeah, you could say that."

Booth nodded and placed his hands on his hips, "Would you like a beer or something to eat?"

She looked up at him and smiled, "A beer would be great."

He quickly made his way to the kitchen, removing two beers and popping their caps off before returning to Emma in the living room. He handed one off to her and sat down next to her on the couch, "So what is wrong?" he said, then taking a swig from the bottle.

She sipped the beer cautiously and then began fiddling with the label on the bottle, refusing eye contact, "My mission at George Washington is over."

Booth cleared his throat and looked out the window behind the couch, "So what does that mean for you?"

"It means that I will be back at the bureau for a while and then I will be placed back under cover in a matter of days, maybe weeks."

Booth looked her over. He knew that she loved going undercover but she was obviously not happy about this situation. Although he had gotten the slightest of hints that there was something going on between her and Sweets, he was never really one for gossip, but he knew that there had to be some truth to it, "And you're upset because…"

She looked up at him rolling her eyes, "Like you don't know already." She said letting a cocky laugh escape her lips, "You were right, I have a thing for Lance."

He laughed at the remark, "I knew it!" he said victoriously, "You know, it wasn't that hard to figure it out."

She shook her head at him, "Some would say the same thing about you."

Booth put his beer down on his coffee table, "Yeah, you really screwed me with that one."

Emma raised her eyebrows, astonished, "How did I screw you?"

"You were all logical in explaining things to me about my friendship with Bones; I did something really stupid."

Emma twisted herself on the couch to face him, "What did you do?"

"I told her that I was in love with her."

Emma scrunched her face, "First I would like to point out that you are presently in love with her; not past tense. And secondly, how is it _my_ fault that _you _did that?"

Booth shook his head and rubbed his hand over his face, "Fine, you win. Forget it. You're right, I told her that I was- am in love with her and it's completely my fault."

Emma shook her head more violently and then stood up, "It's no one's fault that you're in love with her! It's not like you can stop love from happening. Admitting that you're in love is preventable, but the longer a person keeps that inside of themselves, the longer they go without expressing that feeling to the other person, the quicker they die from not knowing if their feelings are returned. It leaves you more cold and jaded by the moment."

Booth grabbed the bottle off the table and took a healthy swig, "You're right. Maybe admitting it was a good thing, Emma. But the way I did it…"

Emma crossed her arms and diplomatically asked, "Well, how did you do it?"

"I yelled it at her." He said flatly.

Emma let out a quick burst of laughter and then stopped. Then she could no longer help it and let laughter consume her. Booth stared at her accusingly and slammed the bottle down on the table before standing up angrily, "That is not funny!" he said. Her actions failed to cease which only made him angrier. The longer she continued laughing, the more lighthearted he felt which made him only want to maintain his anger at her. Finally he gave in and began laughing as well.

They both ended up collapsing on the couch, remaining giggles seeping from their bodies until finally they both calmed.

"Man," Emma exclaimed, "You two can't do anything the normal way, can you?"

Booth giggled again, "Apparently not."

Emma rolled her eyes and then looked at him, "So what are you going to do now?"

Booth ran a hand through his hair and sighed, "All I can do is wait until she either comes to terms with it and ends our partnership or… admits that she loves me too."

Emma nodded, "She will choose the latter."

Booth looked over at her, "Why do you say that?"

"She loves you, Booth. Very few people are so self destructive that they won't let someone else love them. If she really is, then you need to commit her."

"Bones doesn't believe in psychology."

Emma giggled, "But psychology believes in her!" she said using a very 'twilight zone' type voice.

The two erupted in yet another fit of laughter.

* * *

It was the next morning and Sweets had called Emma the night before. They had decided to meet for breakfast that morning at the diner before work. He sat impatiently waiting for her in the diner at the usual table hoping that he would be able to remain cool when she arrived. He had a bad habit of being overly dorky in front of pretty girls and it had always irritated him. He didn't know that Emma thought that it was cute.

Emma stepped inside the diner just as Sweets had looked up at the door. She was dressed professionally. A pair of black pants and a matching black suit jacket, heels and a light blue button down; the clothes had taken him off guard as he had only ever seen her in casual attire and a cheerleading uniform that made him quiver every time she had donned it.

She quickly made her way over to him, trying to hide the over dramatic smile playing on her lips at the sight of him. She sat down across from him and folded her arms at the edge of the table. She was about to talk when the waitress came up to them and began taking their orders.

Once that was done she stared down at her arms and then looked up at his piercing gaze, "What?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said, abruptly leaning back in his chair, "It's just, the way you sounded yesterday on the phone, I assumed that you wanted to talk to me about something."

"You know what they say about people who assume." She joked.

"Yeah, yeah."

"Actually, you're right. I do need to talk to you about something." She said, then clearing her throat.

"Okay," he said straightening in his chair and becoming concerned.

"I'm being taken off of the George Washington case."

"Okay, well, that's good news, isn't it?"

"Not exactly." She said looking down again.

Sweets looked up at the waitress who was setting their breakfast down in front of them, "Um, thank you." He said to the waitress, then turning back to Emma, "I'm not sure I understand."

"My job at the FBI is based upon my ability to go undercover. By taking me off of the GW case, I will be reassigned again elsewhere. It means I might be going somewhere for an extended period of time."

Sweet's brow furrowed in confusion, "Somewhere else as in…"

"As in," Emma shrugged, "Florida, New York, England Scotland, California, who knows." She said.

Sweet's rested his head in his hands and sighed, "So that means…"

"Yeah…" she said regretfully.

Sweet's looked up and then grabbed one of her hands, holding it in his. He rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand and then looked her square in the eye, "Okay." He said simply.

"Okay?" she asked.

"I'll wait for you."


	22. Chapter 22

**Thanks for all of the great reviews. And if any of my readers work in theatre, tv or film, I need a job. HELP! hahaha**

**Enjoy the chapter and let me know what you think by pressing that little review button at the bottom of the page.**

* * *

They were sitting in the SUV outside of Scott McVey's house. It was a fraternity house so the exterior ground were extremely unkempt and Brennan had the urge to run to the local convenience store and by antiseptic hand gel, which she would never normally use consider it killed both bad and good germs, but the house looked so dirty that she could only presume that no good germs were prevalent in its structure.

She looked over at Booth and nodded at him and they both exited the vehicle and walked toward the front door. Instead of knocking, Booth kicked the door to alert the tenants to their presence.

A young man, who was undisputedly hung over answered the door. He was wearing a pair of pajama pants and a ripped up old t-shirt, hair mussed and large bags under his eyes, "Can I help you?" the boy asked.

Booth reached for his badge on his belt and held it up to the boy, "FBI, Special Agent Seeley Booth and this is my partner Doctor Temperance Brennan."

The boy nodded and looked over at Brennan, "My girlfriend has read your books. She's like… in love with you." The boy half slurred.

"That's great," Booth said, mocking the boy, "We're looking for Scott McVey."

The boy nodded and looked behind him, "Sure hold on." He said. He yelled into the house for Scott and they heard loud banging footsteps down a carpeted stairwell. Scott squeezed outside of the door and shut it quickly behind him.

"Can I help you?"

"We're here about the murder of Ashton Crimsmore."

Scott gestured to a dirty looking porch swing, offering it to Booth and Brennan. They both adamantly shook their heads and Scott took a seat instead. He was a good looking boy. Short hair cut, apparently not hung over as his roommate was. He was well dressed and looked to be a very captivating young man.

"Yeah I knew Ashton." He stated.

"What exactly was your relationship with him?" Booth asked, leaning up against the side rail, then wincing back, realizing that it wasn't a good idea seeing as how his hands were now covered in black gunk. Brennan removed a tissue from her purse and handed it to him.

"I'm friends with Melanie; I knew Ashton through her."

Booth nodded, still trying to rid his hands of the offensive black stains, "She said that you two had started dating shortly after she had broken up with him."

"Yeah, that's true. But honestly, she had only been dating him to make me jealous." Scott said leaning back on the porch swing.

Brennan scrunched her face and studied the boy, "Why?"

Scott rolled his eyes and leaned forward, "Melanie has had a thing for me as long as I can remember. I was never really all that into her. She's a nice enough girl and all, but when you get her angry, she kind of goes off the deep end. She's pretty and all, but the only reason we had started 'dating' if that's really what you want to call it, is because I felt bad for her. She had come to me crying about Ashton and how he had betrayed her and her family and things got a little out of hand I guess."

Booth looked up, "What do you mean by out of hand?"

"We did it." The boy stated.

Brennan looked utterly confused, "Did what?"

Booth leaned over to his partner, "They had sex, Bones." He said through grinding teeth.

"Oh." She said, "Why couldn't you just say that?"

Scott laughed and leaned back on the porch swing again, "Well anyways, we aren't dating anymore. I had to break it off with her because I realized that the only thing worse than unrequited love is someone dating you out of pity."

Brennan nodded and Booth continued scrubbing his hands. Brennan looked over at him and sighed.

"What is this stuff anyway!" Booth said in frustration, "Tar?"

Scott leaned forward and looked at his hands and shrugged, "I have no idea."

* * *

Emma sat in her makeshift office vigorously writing up case reports. She heard a knock on her cubicle wall and looked up to see Director Murphy standing at the edge of her domain. She immediately stood up and he entered into the cramped space.

"It's nice to see you again, Agent Grayson." He said extending his hand to her.

"Nice to see you too sir." She said, taking his hand as firmly as possible. She had a thing about handshakes, especially with fellow FBI Agents.

"How was your time as a law student?" he asked.

"Eh, it was cake." She said gesturing to the seat that was shoved into the corner. The director sat down and shifted the seat forward as to not become claustrophobic. Emma took a seat behind her desk and grabbed her pen to fiddle with.

"Paperwork a drag?" he asked.

She laughed, "Yeah, well. It is what it is. Is there a reason you came to see me sir?"

The director laughed, "Why do you ask it like that Agent?"

She tapped the pen lightly on the back of her hand, "Well, it's just that it isn't normal for the Director to come visit an Agent in their office. Unless their pissed off for some reason."

The director laughed again and leaned forward, "Well, I'm not exactly angry with you, but I do have a few issues to take up with you."

Emma cleared her throat and stiffened, "Okay then. Let me have it."

"You're relationship with Agent Booth. Is that something to be concerned about?"

Emma laughed so hard she snorted, "Excuse me sir?"

"Word through the FBI rumor mill is that you two met while you were undercover and are now dating."

Emma laughed again, "Sir, it was a ploy."

Murphy straightened up and looked at her in confusion, "Please, explain that one to me."

"We had met when he questioned me about the death of Ashton Crimsmore, a fellow squad member who had been murdered by the same syndicate that I was researching into. I had to be careful about the possibility of someone catching on that I was an undercover Agent and letting him taint any connections that I was beginning to form while I was under. So I slapped him."

"You slapped Agent Booth?" Murphy said, stunned.

"Yes sir. But I apologized later." She said, hoping that she wouldn't get in trouble for it.

Murphy nodded, "Continue."

"He brought me back to the FBI, having already figured out on the way there that I was in fact an undercover agent and dug up my file."

"How did he figure it out?"

"What kind of law student would smack an FBI Agent?" she asked.

Murphy nodded his head, "You could have blown your cover like that Grayson. Lucky for you they didn't put two and two together like Agent Booth had."

"Actually, Booth would never have figured it out if he didn't have Doctor Brennan with him."

Murphy let out a loud laugh, "Yeah, I've heard about that one."

"She is definitely something else, sir. You wouldn't believe some of the things I could tell you about her."

Murphy smiled and leaned back in his chair, crossing his left leg over his right, "So where does this relationship come into play?"

"When he drove me back to campus that night, we had to make up an excuse as to why he let me go with no formal charges."

"Which would mean you tainted the bureau's reputation by using sex as your cover."

Emma began to roll her eyes, but stopped herself out of respect for her boss, "With all due respect sir, they were a group of horny college cheerleaders looking for something steamy that could only come from the pages of some sleazy romance novel. I indulged them. And you know as well as I do that that story is the least of the problems that the bureau is dealing with."

Murphy nodded and stood up. He moved the chair back into the corner and began to walk out of her cubicle. Emma stood up quickly, "Sir!" she called after him. He turned around and took a step back into her office, "Just two things."

"Go ahead Agent Grayson."

"First, I would like you to know that I am actually dating an Agent. Doctor Lance Sweets."

"Sweets?" he said exasperated.

"Yes sir."

"Really?" he said sounding just as shocked as the first time around.

"Do you know him sir?" she asked.

"After a case I had to go to some mandatory sessions with him last year. Weird kid though. Best of luck with that one." He said smiling, "And the second thing?"

"Why does my relationship with Agent Booth matter? I don't work directly with him."

"You're in for a transfer, Grayson. They need someone in homicide to fill in for Agent Charlie Burns."

* * *

Brennan was sitting across the table from Mike. She had dressed nicely in a black summer dress that contrasted her pale skin and wore her hair down and parted to the side. She wore no jewelry which was somewhat out of character for her, but she just didn't feel like picking any out. Plus, Angela had told her that it was a nice change of pace from the clunky necklaces she often wore.

Despite her best efforts to stay interactive with him, she couldn't stop thinking about her situation with Booth. He had confessed to her that he loved her and she could shake this sinking feeling that she had whenever they weren't in some sort of close proximity to each other. Was this what he felt?

"Right?" Mike said leaning across the table toward her.

"Wha… I'm sorry, Mike. My head was somewhere else. Would you mind repeating what you said?" She said, thoroughly befuddled.

"Not at all. What I was saying was…" he continued.

What was it that made her feel so disconnected from herself all of a sudden? Before Booth had come into her life she was perfectly capable of maintaining a suitable life without him constantly lingering around. But after three years of being around him, and getting used to his irritating phone calls in the middle of the night and his random and sporadic appearances at her front door, not to mention all of the time they spent with each other at work, she felt a loss when he wasn't around.

"That is what I was saying. Don't you agree?" Brennan frustratingly propped her elbows on the table and cradled her head in her hands. He leaned toward her again and touched her forearm, "Are you alright? You must be really stressed out with this George Washington case."

"No, no. I'm fine. I'm sorry, I didn't hear a word you said, again."

Mike laughed and started his whole tirade over again.

Though the words that he had spoken to her scared her at first, she was now replaying them in her head on a constant basis. Every time she heard them, the more comfortable she became with it. Along with those words she thought of all of the times that they had had together as merely Booth and Brennan and not Special Agent and Doctor. The way he smiled at her from the driver's seat in the SUV, the feeling of his hand on her lower back, the attentiveness that he had over her, constantly making sure that she was okay. These are things she used to hate, despise even, they had grown on her over the years and she had come to love them.

"Temperance?" Mike said, bringing her out of her thoughts.

"Hm?"

"Why are you smiling like that?"

"Huh?" she said leaning back in her chair, just then noticing the dreamy smile that she had on her face. Her expression changed immediately to one of seriousness.

"Did you listen to anything I said?" he asked.

Brennan shook her head disappointedly, "No."

Mike sighed, "It's okay. I know how cases can get sometimes…"

"No." she stated, "It's not about the case." She shrugged, "I can't do this."

Mike's eyes became wide, "What?"

"Listen, you're a really great guy. I mean, had I met you a couple years ago, we may have been perfect for each other, but I can't date you." She said leaning across the table and resting her hand on his, "It seems as though I am… already involved emotionally with someone else."

Mike nodded, looking away from her, "Well, thank you for being honest."

Brennan stood up and placed her napkin on the table, "Thank you for understanding."

Brennan walked away from the table, leaving behind the man she almost dated out of pity.


	23. Chapter 23

**Hey guys! Sorry I haven't posted in a few days. Something awful happened at work and I was distracted. Thanks for all of the wonderful review thus far. Keep it up cause you know I love it!! Cheer me up, Cheerman!! hahaha**

**Okay, tell me what you think!!**

* * *

It had been a long day. He walked into his house and stopped smelling the sweet scent of home, letting the oak door slam shut behind him. He rolled his aching neck and rubbed his drooping eyes before tossing his coat, suitcase and keys on the floor next to the door.

Booth wasn't a man to admit when he was in pain, but in the privacy of his own home when peering eyes and watchful glances were no longer present, he conceded to letting his pain take over his body. He limped to the couch, shrugging off blazer and fell onto the brown leather with a thump. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt before removing his socks and shoes and massaging away the pain in his arches and ankles.

He had been wearing thicker socks in the winter for numerous years proceeding his time overseas, but every day of every winter, the chilling air somehow managed to seep through the thick material and bring back the physical and emotional pain of those events that he know realized would be a constant reminder of what he had done and what had been done to him. He came to the conclusion some years back that his treatment while held in that awful place was a sort of penance for the things he had done.

Aside from his partner, the only thing he wanted right now was a long hot shower and a night of peaceful sleep. After rubbing his feet for an extended amount of thoughtless time, he reluctantly pushed himself off of the couch and made his way to his bedroom. About halfway up the hall he felt a cold chill wafting down the hallway. He removed his gun from his holster and got at the ready before gently pushing open the door to his room.

There were glass shards all over the floor and some on his bed and sticking through the window was a relatively large tree branch. It had been windy that day. He shook his head at himself and his overreaction. He placed the gun down on his dresser and quickly disrobed before heading into the bathroom for the steaming shower his muscles were so desperately demanding.

* * *

Emma was, once again, pissed at Booth. She couldn't believe that he had taken it upon himself to alter the outcome of her career based on a single comment of reluctance on her part to continue with the undercover investigations. Granted, she was happy that she was given a chance to spend more time with the only person she had ever felt a real connection with, but she didn't appreciate him taking it upon himself to 'fix it' for her, especially when she hadn't even asked for his help.

She walked up to Sweet's apartment and began pounding on the door. She knew that he was in there and she needed to discuss this with him immediately. A moment later, she was greeted by a sleepy and disheveled looking Lance who stared down at her curiously.

When Sweets opened the door, he was expecting to see some wacko FBI Agent who had dug up his home address because they were in some kind of turmoil that couldn't be settled at any other time. He was half right. There stood Emma Grayson of the FBI and also his… girlfriend?

Her face was flushed and the grimace on her face was one that, despite her anger, made Sweet's heartbeat a little faster. She just looked so adorable, like a teddy bear who was having a temper tantrum. Just too cute. He attempted to repress the smile that came to his lips, not only because of her, but because of the image of a teddy bear throwing a tantrum in his head.

She stomped into his apartment past him without any kind formal or informal greeting which left his staring at an empty hallway. Still confused, yet delighted by her presence, he shut the door behind her and flicked on the light so he could see more than just her silhouette by the windows.

She stood there in front of him, arms crossed and foot tapping. He immediately felt as though he had done something wrong, and felt like apologizing for whatever it was regardless of whether he had done it or not.

"Did you know about this?" she said in a tone that had a hint of venom behind it.

"About you coming over here?" he asked timidly.

"No. About what Booth did!" she said, raising her voice.

"What did he do? I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about." He said, moving toward the kitchen, "Would you like something to drink?"

Emma shook her head no and followed him into the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator door and peered inside, "I'm talking about the transfer, Lance."

He popped up from looking inside the fridge and looked at her, "You got transferred? That's great!" She gave him a menacing look and he put his head back into the fridge, "Or… not."

"So, you're telling me that you didn't ask him to have me transferred so that I would stay here?"

Sweets pulled out the gallon of milk and removed a cup from a nearby cabinet and poured the liquid from the one container in the other, then placing it back inside the refrigerator, kicking the door closed with his foot, "I would never do something like that." He said shaking his head.

Emma looked at him skeptically, "You wouldn't?"

Sweet's shook his head again, "Never. I know how FBI Agents are."

Emma let a small laugh escape her lips, "You mean I could totally kick your butt?"

Sweets laughed, "No… well, yes. But that isn't what I was talking about. FBI Agents, especially those like yourself and Agent Booth are completely immersed and dedicated to the work that you do. I would never jeopardize your career for purely selfish reasons. I won't, however, say that I'm not happy about what he did, because I am."

"So you're saying that you think he did the right thing?" she said, becoming agitated.

Sweets took a sip of his milk, "No. Not at all. He should have at least discussed the possibility with you first; it's your decision, not his."

Emma sighed and looked at the ground, then releasing the tension from her shoulders, "I believe you."

"Good." Sweets said smiling and taking another sip of his milk, "Is that all you came over here for?"

Emma thought for a moment and the right corner of her mouth turned up giving her an endearing smirk, "No." she said. She walked over to him and took the glass of milk of his hand and wrapping her arms around his neck, "Ready for another first?" she said.

* * *

Brennan rushed out of the restaurant and found herself standing on the curb. She suddenly felt elated to be outside, like she could breathe for the first time in a long time. It was almost how she felt the moment Booth had pulled her out of the ground when the gravedigger had buried her and Hodgins, but so much better.

She realized then that she hadn't driven to the restaurant and attempted to hail a cab with no use. She retrieved her phone from her purse and noted the time: Eleven pm. Had she really only been out with Mike for three hours because it had felt like five at the least. He had taken her on a 'romantic stroll' around the city before making their way to the restaurant and she admitted to herself now that she hadn't heard anything that he had talked about that night. Most of her responses had been mere nods and confirmations that required little explanation after that.

She looked around before deciding that she would walk. After all, Booth's apartment wasn't all that far away and the time might give her the opportunity to come up with exactly what she wanted to say to him. She quickly started to make her way down the street, into the darkness of the city.

* * *

Booth stepped out of the shower and wrapped the white towel around his torso. The steam in the bathroom began dissipating and he stepped toward the sink and grabbed his toothbrush. He slathered on toothpaste and quickly brushed away the remnants of the apple pie he had had earlier that day and washed it all down the drain. Childishly, he felt saddened that he couldn't have eaten those miniscule bits that had gotten stuck in his teeth, but he quickly brushed off the thought and tapped his toothbrush on the sink, ridding it of excess water before replacing it on the edge of his sink.

He opened the bathroom door and went to the kitchen to grab duck tape and plastic garbage bags to fix up the window for the night and went barging toward his bedroom. When he walked in, Melanie Roselli was laying on his bed with his gun in hand. He dropped the items he was carrying and stepped back.

Melanie sat up and pointed the gun at him, "You're not going anywhere."


	24. Chapter 24

**YIKES! You all are going to hate me!! haha**

**New Chapter VERY VERY SOON. Do not fret my loves. All will be righted.**

* * *

It had begun to rain fairly hard as she made her way down the dark and desolate streets of D.C. She wasn't worried about any potential danger because nothing could ruin this night for her and she had her gun in her purse just in case. Her open toed heels were now lazily hanging off of her index finger and her bare feet were sloshing through puddles as she made her way closer and closer to Booth.

She didn't realize it, but a smile had graced her face subconsciously as she thought about what she would say to him when she arrived and more specifically how happy she hoped he would be at her news. Her hair was sticking to her neck and back and her makeup was now nonexistent, which didn't deter from her natural beauty in the least. If anything, she looked more beautiful now than she ever had in her life.

Her black dress was forming to the curves of her body and the dainty almost ethereal way she was walking on the sidewalk led her to believe that she couldn't be happier at this moment. Finally, after waiting a lifetime for someone to save herself from herself, Booth had managed to cut to the core of her and make her human again. If she believed in fairytales, she could only presume that this is how they would really happen. At metaphor; a princess locked in a tower and her knight showing her the way home.

When she arrived at his apartment she found that all of the lights were off and his car was parked outside. She knew he was probably sleeping but this was too important. She had to wake him up.

* * *

It was eleven o'clock and Emma Grayson was lying next to her sleeping boyfriend. Things were so amazing between the two of them and it turned out that the whole reason she had been angry in the first place was rather stupid and selfish of her. Booth was only trying to help the situation and even though he should have asked her if the transfer would be okay, she was grateful nonetheless.

Emma was drawing whimsical circle figures on his chest with her index finger. Her hair was a mess and neither of them was wearing any clothing. The comforter on his bed was draped over their lower halves while they were keeping each other warm up above. She looked up at his peacefully dreaming face and let out an unsteady breath. She reached her arm across his torso and pulled herself closer to him, holding onto him for dear life.

* * *

"Melanie?" Booth asked, pinching his eyes to see through the darkness. It was a lame attempt to stall because he could clearly make her out on his bed but he figured it was worth a shot to play dumb.

He had nothing to protect himself with. She had his gun and all of his spares were out of reach. He was dressed in nothing but a towel which seemed to amuse Melanie more than anything.

"Yes. It's me, Agent Booth." She said, cocking her head to one side and the gun shook in her hand.

Booth raised his hands in the air, "I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume that you are the one who killed Ashton. Am I right?"

Melanie tossed her head back and laughed and then trained the gun on him once again, "That's right."

"How did you get the poison into the country?" he asked, taking small steps toward his dresser. The gun followed him.

"I hired five men to smuggle it in. The one who didn't get caught got paid."

"And these men worked for your father?"

"No. They worked for me."

Booth looked up at her as he opened a drawer in his dresser quietly. Apparently she had stopped to consider that the drawer he was opening could have a gun in it. It didn't, but he couldn't help but think that she was a pretty awful criminal.'

"I already checked in that drawer she said with a cocky grin coming to her face. Booth let out a breath and grabbed a shirt from inside and pulled it over his head.

Booth looked over at the alarm clock on his night stand and the almost blinding red numbers read eleven o'clock. He was so tired and not really into the whole home invasion thing that night. He thought about asking Melanie to reschedule but knew that that was just dumb. He let an aggravated breath escape his lips and his shoulders dropped slightly.

"What's wrong Agent Booth?" Melanie asked as though she were talking to a five year old, "Your little doctor to busy on her date to come play with you?"

Booth's head shot up, "Bones is on a date?" he asked out loud.

"Sure is, sweetheart. How about we get back at her the old fashioned way?" Melanie said raising her eyebrows and moving into a more seductive pose on his bed.

"No thanks." He said almost laughing, "I think I'm okay." Truth was he didn't like it at all, but if her being on a date meant that she wasn't here with a gun being pointed at her, than it was a sacrifice he was willing to take.

"Oh come on!" Melanie said coaxing him, "You might as well." She smiled.

Booth cautiously smiled as well, "Why is that?"

"Get yourself off one last time, Agent Booth." She said sitting up and leaning toward him, "I didn't come here for small talk, Agent Booth. I came here to kill you."

* * *

Brennan stood outside of his place pacing back and forth. She wanted the words to be exactly right. It was logical to want him to know the full effect he had on her despite the vulnerability that it would inevitably leave her in; but she knew that he wouldn't leave her or intentionally hurt her, so it was okay. Everything would be okay when it came to Seeley Booth. She couldn't understand how she had never seen that before.

She was pulling at her lower lip with her index finger and thumb and her left hand was firmly propped on her hip. Her shoes and purse were sitting on his front stoop and the rain was still tumbling out of the sky and drenching her, but she didn't notice and if she had then she didn't care. It was only water and she was too happy to let something like that deter her mood.

There was a loud bang; one that stirred her from her thoughts and immediately caused her stomach to stir. No, this couldn't be happening. She reached down into her purse and grabbed the keys to his apartment and the gun from her bag. She moved up the steps with the caution that Booth had taught her on their many cases together. Despite the caution and professionalism he had instilled in her, she couldn't help but let her bottom lip quiver and the tears begin to fall from her eyes; meshing with the raindrops that had made their home on her skin.

She fumbled with the keys. It was a simple task, but in this moment it was difficult enough to be rocket science. The keys fell from her hands and she grabbed then and forcefully grabbed the gold key with the blue marker on it. In the process she scratched her skin so deep that she began bleeding, but she didn't care.

She plunged the key into the front lock and turned it less quietly than she should have. She entered the apartment and closed the door quietly behind her. Her breathing was labored and she knew that her position would be a dead giveaway if someone was truly in the house.

She prayed to all Gods, fictitious or not to let him be okay, to let that sound just have been her imagination. She stepped into the living room and mentally kicked herself when one of the floorboards squeaked. She could hear footsteps coming from his room and someone clearing their throat that was Booth. She knew it beyond reasonable doubt. The footsteps were of a different person though because they were too light.

Brennan picked up the cordless phone and dialed 911 and placed it back down on the table as she made her way further into the house.

"Nine one one, what is your emergency?" The operator stated. Brennan knew that if they didn't get an answer they would send out a couple of cars so she didn't bother alerting the intruder to her presence by talking, "Hello? Is there anyone there?" the operator said again.

Brennan rounded the corner into the hallway and made her slow case down toward Booth's bedroom where she began to hear voices.

"My dad, he was really proud of me." The voice said, "You'll be my second, but this time we won't be able to celebrate it because you put him in jail!" she yelled.

Brennan knew who it was now. She recognized the voice and got her gun at the ready. She turned the corner and saw Melanie standing over a wounded Booth who was lying on the floor bleeding. Melanie's gun was trained on Booth and Brennan's was trained on Melanie. She stepped into the room, "Put the gun down, Melanie." Brennan said.

Melanie looked up at her, "Doctor Brennan! It's so nice of you to join us."

* * *

"You don't want to kill me, Melanie." Booth said staring at the girl lying on his bed.

"Of course I do. And then next I'm going to kill… Agent Emma Grayson."

Booth's eyes widened, "You know about Emma?"

"Yeah, remember those bugs in your office? Those were new, but the others in the building had been there for years." Melanie laughed.

"Why didn't you just take care of business when she was first assigned then?" he asked.

"Because then they would just keep sending Agent after Agent." Melanie said, waving the gun around, "If she completed a report saying that the bureau was mistake, which I would have forced her to write, then no one would have had to worry."

Booth nodded, "So you're telling me that you're the one in charge of the underground operations at the school?"

Melanie nodded, "Yeah, I have coach Markely under my thumb as well as a few other coaches and the Dean of Admissions is a member of the Canterelli's so, it made the whole business plan kind of simple. I profit by getting my friends into the school and the school profits through the financial support of the Canterelli's. It's actually been going on for about thirty years now, I'm surprised the bureau only just picked up on it, but then again, they never were quite quick on the uptake. Right?" she said mocking him.

Booth moved closer to his bureau and reached for a pair of shorts. He didn't feel comfortable around Melanie, aside from the gun, she was kind of pervy and he didn't like that. He quickly pulled the shorts up his legs and removed the towel from around his waist and opened up his hamper and placed it inside. Before he could even grab the gun that was at the bottom of it he felt a sharp stinging sensation in his side and fell to the floor.

Melanie stood up and walked over to the Agent, "What do you think? I'm new at this?" Booth looked at the menace in her eyes and closed his trying to think himself away from the pain, "I've been watching people get whacked since I was a kid and you really think you can fool me into thinking that you're really that delicate when placing a towel in a hamper?" she laughed, "I cased your room for guns when you were in the shower, that is how I know that there is a glock on the bottom of it. Don't treat me like a child." She spat at him and stood up, "I was going to keep you around a while longer, but since you're already ruining the hardwood floors, I might as well just finish you off."

"Ashton was my first." She said dreamily, "My dad, he was really proud of me. You'll be my second, but this time we won't be able to celebrate it because you put him in jail!" she yelled.

Booth heard the floorboard creak again and the door swing open a little. And then he heard the best sound he had ever heard in his life, "Put the gun down, Melanie." Brennan said.

Melanie looked up at her, "Doctor Brennan! It's so nice of you to join us."


	25. Chapter 25

**As promised, a new chapter and very very soon. I hope the suspense didn't kill y'all. haha. Let me know what you think. Turns out I'm better at writing fluff that I originally thought, especially with the advent of my other story "You can't always get what you want." I am fully surprised with myself. **

**READ AND REVIEW PEOPLE!! **

**Love ya!**

* * *

"I asked you very nicely to put the gun down, Melanie." Brennan said, edging her way into the room more. She was trying to use her peripheral vision to see if Booth was okay and how much blood loss there was. She could tell he was conscious because she could feel him looking at her, but other than that she didn't know. She didn't want to take her eyes off of Melanie just incase she decided to do something crazy.

"Yeah, and the nicer you ask me the more likely I am to turn myself in." Melanie said sarcastically, gun still aiming at Booth.

"Melanie, I've shot people for fewer reasons, and right now you're aiming a gun at my partner. Don't make me falsify a police report."

Melanie laughed and glanced down at Booth. Booth nodded his head, "It's true. She shot an unarmed man once for no good reason."

Brennan scoffed, "He was trying to set me on fire, not to mention the fact that he was a murderer."

"You had time before the flames went up!" Booth whined, "I was on my way in the door, you could have waited!"

"How was I supposed to know where you were? I'm extremely intelligent but I do not have a Booth GPS system installed in my brain."

"Let's not forget that you were also drunk." He scoffed.

"I was not drunk!" she complained, "You make it sound like I was incapable of walking or something. I'll admit that my Blood Alcohol content was higher than normal, but nothing higher than a .08 at most. I had one drink! At least I didn't shoot a clown head on an ice cream truck!"

"WOAH! Bones! You know…" Booth started to defend himself.

"SHUT UP!" Melanie yelled, pulling the partners out of their bickering and bringing back into the reality of the situation in which Melanie was planning on killing them, "Geez, I should just lock you two in a room together and rip each other apart. No muss, no fuss."

"Melanie," Brennan said, "You don't want to kill anyone. We will catch you and you will be sent to prison."

"I'm not going to prison." She stated matter of fact, "I'm going to kill him, you and Emma and then I'm hitting the highway, and nothing you say or do is going to stop me." Melanie released the safety on the gun and leaned forward.

There was another loud bang and Temperance jumped across the floor and landed on top of Melanie. The sound of the shell bounced off of the hardwood floor and then rolled in a circle, stopping at Booth's leg.

There was movement between the two women and finally Temperance sat up and dropped her gun on the floor. Her dress was covered in blood although it was difficult to see because of the dress's color and there were smears of blood across her shoulder and chest. Melanie's blood.

The police sirens were now in the distance heading toward the house and Brennan rolled her eyes at Booth. Leave it to the D.C. police to show up after the situation has already been handled. Brennan checked for a pulse on Melanie and shook her head at Booth before sliding over next to him and leaning her back up against his dresser. Booth pushed himself up into a sitting position next to her, gripping his side and trying to stifle the blood flow and relieve the pain. Brennan was holding her wrist and contorting her face in pain.

"Let me see it." Brennan said turning to him. She lifted his shirt without permission and examined the bullet wound, "It's just a flesh wound. You may need a few stitches, but I think you'll survive Agent Booth." Brennan smiled, lowering his shirt.

"You're wrist okay?" he asked.

"I think I broke it again trying to pummel her. It's the same wrist I broke in New Orleans." She said gently examining her wrist. Booth nodded and looked at her wrist as well.

"How did you know?" he asked.

"Know what?"

Booth looked at her in the eyes, "How did you know that she would be here?"

Brennan let a small laugh escape her lips, "I didn't. I came here for something else and I heard the gun shot on the way in."

Booth nodded, "What were you here for?"

Brennan looked away from him and sighed, "I would rather not tell you all…" she said looking at herself and her dress, "covered in blood."

Booth shifted and bit his lower lip, "Alright." He said standing up. He leaned down and grabbed her hand, hoisting her up onto her feet.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

Without an answer, he grabbed her hand, holding his other over his wound and pulled her outside of the house into the pouring rain.

Booth pulled his shirt off over his head and let some of the dry blood wash itself away. He then massaged his shirt in his hands a rung it out. Brennan caught onto the idea and began washing away the blood from her skin and ringing out her dress and running her fingers through her hair. The sirens were getting closer now and louder as they drew near. They could see the lights coming toward them from a few city blocks away, but they still had a good five minutes.

Booth looked at her while putting his shirt back on; her skin was glowing in the moonlight and she was absolutely breathtaking. He prayed silently that she was here to tell him that she loved him, but he wasn't about to put all his eggs in that messy basket. She turned to him and smiled and he returned it, "You ready?" he asked turning toward the door to go back inside. He started to climb the steps when her hand stopped him and pulled him back.

She jumped up and wrapped her arms around his neck, favoring the one hand and pulled his face into hers, forcing her lips upon his. It was silent for the two of them now. No sirens, no rain, just each other and their intertwining lips, the soft sound of the others breathing and scent, filling the void that was left empty in their lives until now. Brennan pulled back momentarily and looked him in the eyes before smiling, "Surprise! I love you too."

Booth laughed and kissed her on the forehead and lifting her off the ground and twirling them around in the rain. He lowered her back down onto the ground and kissed her again.

* * *

"So what are you going to do about the situation with Agent Booth?" Sweets asked Emma who was sitting across the kitchen table donning one of his t-shirts and a pair of his oversized socks. She had just taken a bite of the bagel he had run out to get earlier that morning and her hair was piled on top of her head in an endearing mess.

She smiled at him, "I don't know. Right now, I'm so happy I can barely think." She laughed.

Sweets blushed and bit down on his lower lip, "Well, I think that you should confront him about it soon. I doubt you want him to think that what he did was okay."

Emma nodded, "Yeah, except I was thinking something a little more fun."

Sweets laughed, "You're like… Dennis the Menace."

Emma burst out laughing, "Oh come on, don't tell me that you aren't aching for a little drama and intrigue." She said wiggling her eyebrows.

"Angela will never forgive us if we don't involve Brennan in this somehow and make it so they admit their feelings for each other though." Sweets sighed.

"Booth is so crazy in love with her it's ridiculous." Emma said looking down at the crumbs on her plate and pressing her thumb into them, "You know he told her right?"

Sweets jaw dropped, "WHAT!"

Emma nodded and her eyes widened, "I just found out the other day. He yelled it at her."

Sweets leaned back in his chair, "Ohhh, that is too good."

"I smell something more lurking in that comment Doctor Sweets. Care to indulge me?"

Sweets laughed and leaned forward on the table, "A few months ago Agent Booth had to fake his death. I chose not to inform anyone at the Jeffersonian that he was still alive, including Doctor Brennan." Emma swatted Sweet's arm, hard. He grabbed the sore spot, "Ow! What was that for?"

"Do you even need to ask? You know you should have told her!" Emma complained.

"I wanted to see how she would react. It did prove to be quite intriguing." He said.

"Regardless, even if she won't admit her feelings for him, you should have let her know. She's strong on the outside, but inside… she's like a half step away from nervous breakdown."

Sweets nodded, "Anyways, at his funeral, when everyone finally realized that he wasn't dead, she punched him in the face." Sweets laughed.

Emma laughed as well, "They really can't do anything the normal way, can they?"

Sweets shrugged, "It's part of their charm."

Emma laughed and reached across the table for Sweet's hand, "What is our charm?"

"Death by Adorably Awesome!" Sweets said letting a giggle escape.

Emma thought for a moment, "I can live with that." She smiled. Her eyes got wide and she gave a knowing smile to Sweets, "I have a plan for revenge on Booth!"

* * *

Brennan woke that morning in her bed in her apartment. The sun was cascading through the window of her apartment and she inhaled the scent that was filling her room. It was normal, but with a hint of Booth as he lay next to her; arm slung across her torso and face buried in her hair.

She smiled and laced her arm around to his back and pulled herself closer. Her fingers playing with his t-shirt that was still damp from the night before.

"Good morning." He said in a rough morning voice.

She laughed, "Good morning."

"How is your wrist?" he asked.

She held up the cast and tapped it against his arm, "I think it'll hold." She could hear him smiling.

He kissed the top of her head, "That's good. What time is it?"

She lifted herself up to look at her alarm clock and then dropped back down onto the bed, "Eleven thirty. How long is your apartment going to remain a crime scene?"

"A few days, until they can make sure that our account of the incident is accurate with the evidence they found."

Brennan nodded, "And the fact that you are an FBI Agent can't help validate the truth any?"

"I'd rather they investigate it fully then just take my word for it. It means they are doing their job without bias."

Brennan nodded, "You hate dirty cops."

"That I do. Besides, the longer they take, the longer I stay here." He laughed.

Brennan nuzzled her face into his chest, "Mm. I like the sound of that." She mumbled.

"Alright so, I have to ask you something. Please don't take this the wrong way, but it's just something that I will never forgive myself for if I don't ask it. I'm not expecting anything so don't feel obligated to answer one way or the other.

"Booth!" she yelled, pulling back from him to look him in the eyes. He looked adorable. His eyes were red and sleep ridden and his hair was messed up from sleep and rain and the worry lines on his face were prominent from his obvious nervousness, "Just ask me."

She had never known Booth to worry so much about anything. Normally he was extremely strong and any weakness was hidden away from her as well as everyone else. There were only a few times that she had ever truly seen him in a state of distress; this was now on that list.

Booth cleared his throat and lifted his hand to her cheek, "I've loved you for so long. I've never been able to tell you that because I was afraid of loosing you, but now that you know and now that you've told me you feel the same, I feel like I'm going to wake up at any moment to find out that I was dreaming the whole thing. You challenge me everyday and make me a better person by just standing next to me. What I'm trying to say is… will you marry me?"

Brennan leaned over to him and kissed him. Then she pulled back and sighed, "You know how I feel about marriage, Booth."

Booth laughed, "Yeah, I know. I was just hoping you could see it as a tax break or something."

Brennan tilted her head to the side and looked up at the ceiling, "That may be the most logical argument for marriage I have ever heard."

Booth sat up immediately, "Are you serious?"

"Am I ever not serious?" she smiled.

"So, what are you saying?" he asked sounding excited.

"I'm saying… I will marry you so I can pay less taxes." She laughed.

"You're going to marry me?" he said, hoping that he heard her right.

"I believe I just said that." She said, confirming his question.

Booth closed his eyes and then rolled them, "I can't believe you." He said looking at her.

"Why can't you believe me?" she asked.

Booth laughed, "Never in a million years did I ever think you would say yes; especially on the first shot. I dreamed about it, of course, but I always figured I would have to try and wear down your resolve."

Brennan laughed, "I'll be your wife, but I won't change my name. It'll confuse my fans."

Booth pulled her into him, "I wouldn't ask for that anyways." He said then kissing her passionately.

Brennan slung her arms around his neck and pulled him down on top of her in bed; wrapping her legs around him.


	26. Chapter 26

**Hey guys! Sorry this took so long! Angel Whirlpool... yikes!! Okay enjoy this last chapter.**

* * *

Although they appeared to be working at separate ends of the office, the eye contact and smiles that they sent each other from across the room told a different story. There was no reason as to why Agent Booth was working on his paperwork in Doctor Brennan's office, and if one had asked him about his presence there, he would have told you that it was just incase he needed any information from her that he either didn't know or didn't remember. And of course he needed her signature on the files anyway and it just made sense to be near her when he was completing it.

Doctor Brennan was supposed to be working on her novel but she sat in front of her computer screen "re-reading" the previous chapter, but only managing to re-read the same sentence numerous times. She now had this sentence memorized. Every time she had completed reading it she would glance over at her partner to find him glancing over at her. A smile coming to her face that she felt the need to bite back because of the professional environment that they were situated in. She wanted nothing more than to fake an illness and spend the rest of the day in bed, but since he was in her office it would seem a little odd if they both played the sick card and left together.

No one at the Jeffersonian, the FBI or for that matter in the world besides the two of them knew about what happened over the weekend. They decided to keep it their own little secret and thus far the knowledge of their secret relationship made them feel delightfully sneaky. Booth liked to think of the two of them as enemy spies of love, keeping their relationship secretive was like having some super confidential government information on happiness and he wasn't about to share the secret ingredients with anyone. Of course, he kept that scenario to himself because Brennan would most likely mock him for it.

The twentieth time Brennan looked up from her computer screen Booth caught her eye and began laughing, "Booth! That's not funny!"

"You can't keep you're eyes off of me!" he whispered.

Brennan sat up straight in her chair, "That is not true! You're staring at me and it's causing me to loose my concentration."

Booth laughed again, "How can you tell I'm staring at you if you're looking at your computer screen?"

Brennan looked at her screen and then back at him, "I can feel you watching me."

Booth's eyes grew wide and a flush came to his face, "Oh." He said, then clearing his throat, "I'm sorry."

Brennan smiled when she saw Booth look away, "It's okay." She said turning back to her screen, "I kind of like it." She looked back at him and he was now smiling at her. She shook her head and turned to the screen again.

"Sweetie!" Angela said walking into the office.

Brennan swiveled in her chair to look at her friend, "What's up Ange?"

"I need to talk to you." She said grabbing her friend's hand and pulling her out of her chair.

Booth stood up and placed the file he was holding on the coffee table, "I'll go and give you all some privacy." He said making his way toward the door.

"No!" Angela said abruptly, "You're working. Don't be silly. Bren and I can talk a short walk around the lab or something."

Brennan looked at Angela quizzically, "Um, yeah. Okay." The two women walked out of the office, "Is everything okay Ange? You're acting kind of weird."

"Oh yeah… hormones and what not." She said rubbing her stomach.

"How is the baby doing?" Brennan asked, "We haven't had much time for one another recently with the case and everything."

"Oh, Sweetie, don't worry about it. The baby is fine. It's a girl." Angela said beaming.

"Ange, that's so wonderful!" Brennan said truly happy for her friend.

"Yeah. Hodgins and I are so happy."

"I'm really happy for the two of you."

Angela stopped and faced Brennan, "Thanks Bren, that means a lot to me. That's why it makes this so hard."

"What is so hard?" Brennan asked. Just then, Angela pushed her and she felt two sets of hands pulling her from behind.

* * *

Twenty minutes later Booth was sitting in the same spot on the couch. He realized that with Brennan not in the room, the case files were finished much quicker than he had anticipated. Booth stood up off the couch to stretch his legs and arms and made his way over to the door. He looked around the Medico Legal lab to see no Brennan in sight. Angela was walking toward him with a smile on her face.

"Where did she go?" Booth called to Angela as she neared the office.

"Oh, she went to go get some coffee she asked me to come get you and send her down to the café for a break."

Booth cocked his head to the side, "She couldn't just bring me back one?"

"Don't be such a pooper, Booth. You two have been cooped up in that office all day. If I didn't know any better I'd say there was more than just paperwork going on in there."

Booth laughed, "Well I guess it's a good thing you know better."

"Angela always knows best!" she said.

Emma stepped out in front of the pair, "Hey!" she said excitedly.

Booth stopped abruptly, "Hey Emma." He suddenly felt a cold metal on his wrists and the sound of… handcuffs, "What the hell!" he said turning to see Hodgins with a malicious grin etched across his face. He was pushed towards a door by Hodgins, Sweets and Angela and pushed inside. It wasn't a violent attack so much as a forceful one. He was then sat down on the floor next to and irritated looking Brennan. Sweets, Hodgins, Angela and Emma stood over them looking down on the pair and smiling.

"What the hell are you doing?" Booth yelled at them.

"Pay back's a biz-natch." Sweets said laughing.

"Pay back?" Brennan asked.

Emma laughed, "This is for transferring me to your department without asking me first. Not that I mind really, but you should have asked me first and the fact that you didn't makes me mind."

"You transferred her without her consent?" Brennan said turning to Booth.

Booth got defensive, "So sue me if I like the kid. Jeez, I was trying to do something nice for her so she could date Doctor Geeks over here."

"You should have asked her!" Brennan huffed, "Wait… so why am I in here?"

Angela stepped forward, "That was actually my idea. When Emma told me about the Booth plan, I decided to throw you in as a bonus. Now you two can sit in here, work out your issues and hopefully kiss and makeup. Preferably more of the kissing."

"What is going on in here?" said a voice from the door of the utility closet. Everyone turned around to see Cam at the door.

"Cam!" Booth called, "Get us out of here!"

Cam laughed at the sight of Brennan and Booth tied up in the closet, "I would… but… I… uh… have a meeting…and I'm late."

"CAMILLE!" Booth yelled after her.

"Hey!" she said turning toward him, "Far as I see it, I loose you two for the afternoon but gain years of no sexual tension in the office. Win win." And cam walked away.

Angela and Hodgins both turned and left the closet and Emma and Sweets turned towards the door.

"Doctor Sweets." Brennan called, "What exactly do you get out of this. I mean you could loose you're liscense."

Sweets turned to look at them, "Well, we turned off the camera that feeds in here so there is no proof that we did anything to you. I also have clearance for a trust exercise today with the two of you and well… this involves trust doesn't it?"

"So you're not in this for some sort of pay back like everyone else?" Brennan asked.

"Are you kidding? You guys put me through a lot of crap over the past year. I don't think that pay back would be an appropriate term for my feelings on this. Let's go with… revenge." Sweets said.

"Revenge? You do realize that I will shoot you when you get out of here?" Booth yelled.

Sweets put his hand to his heart, "I feel the love Agent Booth." He said. Sweets turned to the door and laughed. He turned back to the couple and grabbed the door handle, "This is Sweet Revenge! Get it? _Sweet _Revenge? I crack myself up!" he said. He turned off the lights and closed the door leaving Booth and Brennan in the dark.

Brennan slid her head over to Booth shoulder and closed her eyes, "I hate him."

"Well… At least we can make out." Booth said laughing.

Brennan laughed and then bumped his shoulder with her own, "Men…"

**THE END!!**


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